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CGEXRIGHT DEPOSIT. 




REV. ISAAC NEWTON CLARK. D. D. 



Isaac Newton Clark 



Personal Sketch 
By Himself 




Edited By 
PHILIP WENDELL CRANNELL 



Published by 

The Kansas City Baptist Theological 
Seminary. 

Kansas City, Kansas. 
1917. 



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Copyright, 1917, 

By 

Kansas City Baptist Theological Seminary. 



-4 1917 
©CI.A467020 



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CONTENTS 



Foreword 4 

CHAPTER I. 
The Early Days 9 

CHAPTER II. 
In and Out of School 23 

CHAPTER III. 
Conversion, Call and Ordination 29 

CHAPTER IV. 

Early Pastorates 39 

CHAPTER V. 
Wanderings in the West 48 

CHAPTER VI. 
Back in Indiana 56 

CHAPTER VII. 
Bitter Days — War Animosities 63 

CHAPTER VIII. 
At Work Once More — Indiana and Ohio 76 

CHAPTER IX. 

Indianapolis and the Convention 93 

CHAPTER X. 
The Fields Beyond — The Missionary Union 103 

CHAPTER XI. 
Autumnal Days — The Seminary and the Memorial 124 

CHAPTER XII. 
Incidents and Incidentals 130 

CHAPTER XIII. 
The Closing Scenes 145 

CHAPTER XIV. 
Tributes 154 



FOREWORD. 

No man during his lifetime had a securer 
place in the affections of the Baptists of the Mis- 
souri Valley than Dr. Isaac Newton Clark, and no 
memory will be cherished longer or more lovingly. 

As a man and a Christian, a denominational 
leader, a flaming advocate of the sacred cause of 
Missions, a warm-hearted friend, a wise and far- 
seeing counsellor, he was known and welcomed in 
ten thousand homes throughout this section, as 
well as in the field of labor which saw his early 
prime and splendid services, the state of Indiana, 
where in 1853 he preached his first sermon, and 
where with brief sojourns in Kansas and Ohio, 
for thirty-two years as pastor and State Superin- 
tendent, he labored so effectively for the Master 
he loved so well. 

Who will forget that sturdy frame, that leon- 
ine head and face, that massive, thrilling voice, 
those majestic sentences framed in stately words 
and rolling forth in modulated, periodic accents, 
that missionary fire, the intensity and vigor, 
physical, mental, spiritual, of that personality, his 
devotion to his Lord, his fidelity to The Book, his 



FOREWORD. 5 

enthusiasm, which, however his bodily strength 
might wane, never felt the chill of wintry age ? 
One of his frequent hearers, indebted to him in 
countless ways, too deep to tell, on "many a hard- 
fought field," and in many a trying strait, used 
to say whenever he heard him in the last few 
years, "Dr. Clark will be talking about missions 
some day, will begin to soar in one of his flights, 
and will soar so high that he will forget to come 
back." And even so it was. 

With a deep, perennial interest in the Mas- 
ter's work, and in the men and women, things 
and events, which furnished the details of his 
rich and fruitful life, and with a keen eye for 
the picturesque, and a vivid and retentive mem- 
ory, Dr. Clark, late in his life, jotted down these 
reminiscences, all too few, which are herewith 
put forth. They were "typed" with loving care 
by his daughter, Gertrude Conover Clark, whose 
keen intelligence, systematic mind, and skilful 
fingers were of such help in his great work. They 
were written for the eye and mind and heart of 
his own immediate family, not, in the first place, 
for publication. But it was felt that these bright, 
fresh, familiar word sketches should be shared 
by others, and they have, therefore, by the family 



6 ISAAC NEWTON CLARK. 

been turned over to the Kansas City Baptist Theo- 
logical Seminary, with the thought that the pub- 
lication might not only put into the hands of his 
numerous friends a prized memorial of their great 
and good friend and admired leader, but might 
also aid in furthering the work of the institution 
which was so near his heart. His last service, 
except that for the Judson Memorial, was ren- 
dered for the seminary, in raising a substantial 
sum of money for refitting and redecorating the 
building. He was for many years the president of 
its board of trustees, ready in every one of the 
many ways in his power to serve its interests, 
whose importance to the Baptist cause he appre- 
ciated so highly. It is very fitting, therefore, that 
the proceeds of this book, issued under the sem- 
inary auspices, should go to the beautifying of 
the grounds, whose possibilities of charm he had 
so longed to see realized. They can and should 
be made one of the "beauty spots" of Kansas City. 
Even the stranger will be interested and fas- 
cinated by the virile, picturesque, in the best sense 
"racy" pages that follow. But to those who know 
him, how they will bring up again in appealing 
lifelikeness the accents of his voice, the charac- 
teristic touch of his mind, the throb of his heart ! 



FOREWORD. 7 

He had many a home in each Baptist church in all 
this region, and in the coming of this book they 
will almost feel that I. N. Clark has come again to 
visit them. 

Almost no changes have been made in these 
sketches. A little additional matter has been in- 
serted. The chapter headings are the editor's. 
Otherwise the effort has been to stand aside and 
let Dr. Clark speak for himself. P. W. C. 



CHAPTER I. 

THE EARLY DAYS. 

I was born in Clinton County, Indiana, Oc- 
tober 13, 1833, the third son and fourth child of 
David Condit, and Mary Eliza, Clark. My father 
was of English ancestry, and my mother of an 
old German Lutheran family, many relatives on 
that side of the family still belonging to the 
Lutheran Church. They moved from Butler 
County, Ohio, to Indiana, in the fall of 1832, and 
father purchased of the government, 320 acres of 
land at Congress price, a dollar and a quarter 
per acre. Here the home cabin was built, resi- 
dence was established, and the labor of opening 
a farm was begun in 1832. The land was heavily 
timbered, and to cut this away and bring the 
ground into a state of cultivation, was no small 
task. At that early date the country was scarcely 
more than an untouched wilderness, with here 
and there a trace of previous Indian occupation. 
Inhabitants were few and widely scattered. 
Twelve months had passed before my parents 
learned that there was a neighboring resident 
nearer than five miles from our cabin. A wander- 



10 ISAAC NEWTON CLARK. 

ing cow, with a bell swinging to her neck, came 
through the undisturbed forest one day, and fa- 
ther, thinking that she was lost, followed her 
trail, coming at length to a newly built cabin. An 
acquaintance was quickly formed with the new- 
comers, which strengthened to friendship with 
the flight of many succeeding years. 

Very rapidly thereafter, lands were pur- 
chased, and settlements were made in that com- 
munity. Everything was new, and comforts, 
home furnishings and conveniences were not in 
these hastily constructed shacks and unhewn 
cabins. Indeed they were hardly reachable, be- 
sides the fact that the getting of the rude tene- 
ment and the limited supplies for the daily need, 
had in most cases severely taxed the meager fi- 
nances. Trading places were few and widely 
apart. Lafayette, the nearest town where pro- 
visions could be gotten, was sixteen miles distant, 
while Frankfort, which was to be the county seat, 
was then in plan and plat, but still invisible. 

The lands of that section are rolling and 
rich, but not hilly or broken, and the country is 
splendidly watered. Between Frankfort and 
Delphi, a distance of twenty-five miles, nine 



THE EARLY DAYS. 11 

streams of unfailing running water are crossed. 
In my young boyhood, the entire landscape for 
many miles in every direction, was densely cov- 
ered with timber of great variety, oak of several 
kinds, ash, beech, maple, walnut, poplar, syca- 
more, elm, hickory, cottonwood, hackberry, linden, 
and others. Some of the varieties made large 
growth, and it was not unusual to see a white oak, 
red oak, or poplar, four feet in diameter at the 
girdle, and a hundred and fifteen to twenty-five 
feet high. There were big trees in that country 
at that time. Here it was in happy domestic har- 
mony, that father and mother in the vigor and 
enthusiasm of early life, began the task of creat- 
ing a home for themselves and their children. 
Patiently enduring almost intolerable hardship, 
subjected to infinite self denial, compelled to ob- 
serve the most rigid economy, they cheerfully and 
heroically pursued this life task. Every acre of 
land must be cleared of timber and brush, and the 
axe, the grubbing hoe, the maul, the iron wedge 
and the wooden glut were in demand. Rails must 
be split out of mammoth logs, and fences must be 
built. Immense piles of logs were burned. It 
seemed a cruel waste of timber, but at that date 
it was unavoidable. Now much that was con- 



12 ISAAC NEWTON CLARK. 

sumed then would find splendid use and command 
good prices. Trees of no value then would com- 
mand fifty to a hundred dollars now. But waste 
of timber meant nothing — fields and bits of land 
prepared for crops meant much, and the need also 
made demand for the utmost diligence. Both fa- 
ther's and mother's hands were busy in the cun- 
ning of manual labor. Breakfast at day dawn, 
in the clearing by sunrise with indoor work done, 
my mother joined father in the field work, taking 
the three boys with her, the writer being the third 
and youngest. Many times my pillow was a bun- 
dle of leaves, my brothers the vigilant watchers 
and sentinels, while our mother was gathering 
and piling brush to the burning or assisting fa- 
ther in dragging logs to the burning heap. Then 
when the field was open, and planting time came, 
ploughing must be done. There were stumps and 
unbroken roots galore, and to battle with these 
contesting forces, and keep on the face the bright- 
ness of a May morning, was quite as much as 
some preachers could do. Father's Calvinistic 
tutelage came to his rescue, and he managed to 
meet the snap and hit of breaking roots, without 
the use of many, if any, explosive expletives. 
There may have been thoughts of vengeance, or 



THE EARLY DAYS. 13 

such like, but their utterance was restrained. 
Ready for the planting, mother dropped the 
grains of corn in place, walking all day over clods 
and rough ground, and father following with the 
hand hoe, covering the seed with soil. Thus the 
process of farming began, a wonderful contrast 
to the present day of steam plows and planting 
machines. 

Those were the days of wilderness and 
wolves, and night hours were made hideous and 
at times well nigh intolerable, by the incessant 
howling of these ferocious beasts. Sheep, pigs, 
young calves, even chickens, did not escape their 
bloody assaults. So bold and venturesome were 
they, that in the blaze of open day they came 
around our premises looking for prey. Our cabin 
was enclosed by a pole fence. One day the three 
brothers were just outside this fence, when three 
great grey wolves came near and stood inspecting 
the situation. When mother, who was ever on 
the alert, discovered them, and ran with broom 
in hand to rescue the exposed boys, these blood- 
thirsty fellows were frightened at her, and ran 
away a few paces, turning then to complete the 
survey. In the meantime the children were 



14 ISAAC NEWTON CLARK. 

i 

brought safely inside the fence. Father's rifle 
and the faithful dog had many a battle with these 
enemies of civilization, our greatest loss being one 
night when they leaped into the sheep corrall, 
and slaughtered nine of the sheep, a serious loss 
indeed in those days. But the unerring rifle 
brought two of them to the dead line in that foray, 
and gradually as the settlers came in, these night- 
time marauders and destructive disturbers left 
for other lands. 

There were also red men with tomahawk and 
scalping knife in that country in those days, sav- 
ages, but not savage. A company of them en- 
camped one winter on our land. They were ob- 
jects of much interest to us boys, real curiosities, 
with their long braided hair, ribboned and feath- 
ered, variegated moccasins, buckskin breeches 
with fringe and bead ornaments. They were civil, 
innocent beggars, doing us no harm, and after a 
time also disappearing from the land. 

It would be a matter of thrilling interest and 
surprise, to the people of this day, could they look 
into that cabin and family home. The contrast 
between the mansion of the forest and the man- 
sion of today, is simply unbelievable. That was a 



THE EAlRLY DAYS. 15 

single room, about twenty by twenty-four; two 
doors, three small windows, an outside chimney 
constructed of split lathe, bedded in clay mortar, 
back wall and jambs of packed, hardened clay, 
hearth of flat stones gathered from the brook. 
The cabin floor was made of puncheon, split out 
of large linden logs and scutched to even thick- 
ness with foot adze. These were laid on large 
logs leveled on the upper side, the puncheons fas- 
tened to these sleepers with half-inch wooden 
hickory pins. In the walls the spaces between 
the logs of the cabin were filled with chunks of 
wood, which were plastered over with clay mor- 
tar. This one room was tight and warm. The 
furnishing was of fashionable sort for that day, 
but there was no mahogany, birdseye maple or 
quartersawed oak. This one room was at once 
kitchen, dining room, parlor and sleeping apart- 
ment. 

It was supplied with four beds, two of them 
trundle beds, which were rolled under the larger 
beds when not in use. Wire springs and soft 
mattresses had not been intrusive enough to get 
recognition; the bed frames were square posts, 
square rails, ropes tightly drawn, stretched from 



16 ISAAC NEWTON CLARK. 

rail to rail, looped over wooden pins, on this a 
straw tick, and a tick filled with feathers made 
the bed. The chairs were straight round posts, 
with connecting rounds, over which bottoms were 
plaited of oak splints or hickory bark, the out- 
side bark being shaved off. There were two 
homemade rockers, but cushioned rocker and pil- 
lowed sofas had not yet invaded that new land. 

There was one very essential piece of fur- 
niture, made of riven boards, nailed tightly to- 
gether, the rockers cut out of boards in oval fash- 
ion; this was the family cradle. In this rudely 
constructed domestic thing, budding childhood 
rested and grew. It was conspicuous in family 
affairs. Kings, presidents, generals, philosophers, 
preachers and rascals have been cradled. In our 
family the cradle rocked four preachers, but 10 
rascals, we think. 

The cooking utensils are worthy of men- 
tion. There were no cook-stoves or ranges of 
any sort. The first stove of that kind that came 
into the community for cooking purposes, was 
bought and brought in by my father at a much 
later date. A two step stove with four holes for 
cooking purposes, it excited much curiosity among 



THE EARLY DAYS. 17 

the people, many coming to see what sort of thing 
it was. Before the era of the stove all cooking 
was done in pans, long handled skillets, and bailed 
Dutch ovens. Sheet iron frying pans, tin coffee 
boilers, cast iron teakettles, wooden ladles, but- 
terbowls and vessels for washing dishes were 
prominent kitchen requisites. 

The home was not without light, though the 
only electricity any of us had ever seen or heard 
of was in the clouds, streaming from them and 
blazing through the heavens in the time of tur- 
bulent and thunderous storms, and the cavities 
filled with illuminating gas had not been un- 
earthed. The tallow candle made in a tin mold 
or more often, by repeated dipping in the melted 
tallow grease, and the iron bowled lamp, supplied 
with a twisted rag for a wick, one end of which 
was dropped into melted lard, furnished our 
light. Moonlight was an enjoyable luxury with 
the young people, and almanacs were closely 
studied in search of moonlight weeks, for various 
social gatherings. 

Our dining table was made of yellow poplar 
planks, fastened to the top of a homemade square 
frame with round legs. It was without paint, 



18 ISAAC NEWTON CLARK. 

carving or ornament, but it held again and again 
the splendidly relishable dinner our mother could 
prepare. A primitive menu perhaps: Ham and 
eggs from our own pen and nests, coffee from 
parched wheat, corn or buckwheat griddlecakes, 
baked on round iron griddles, heated over hot 
coals, turned and taken up by sheet iron paddle 
in the hands of a boy, and maple syrup manufac- 
tured in our own sugar camp. Dinner, beef from 
our own herd, boiled or roasted with potatoes, 
turnips, milk or water, cornpone or biscuits, some- 
times a squirrel, rabbit or wild turkey, for father 
was a marksman. Supper, winter, mush and milk, 
cold meat, baked or roasted potatoes. A famous 
winter dish was sauerkraut and hominy, both of 
which were homemade. 

For many years we made all the sugar and 
molasses used in the family. Often our camp 
yielded four to six hundred pounds of sugar, and 
fifty to seventy-five gallons of excellent maple 
syrup. The sugar making season which came 
the latter part of February and the first part of 
March, was a time of great interest, activity, and 
genuine fun to the boys and younger people. Bor- 
ing the trees, driving the spiles, setting the 



THE EARLY DAYS. 19 

troughs to catch the running water, collecting the 
water, boiling it down to syrup thickness, then 
turning the syrup into sugar. It was sweet and 
delicious pleasure. At these times the campfires 
were burning, and wax pullings were numerous. 
Occasionally toward the opening of winter, our 
supply of maple sweetness was exhausted, and 
then we turned to Louisiana cane for sugar, but 
a very little of this sufficed us. 

The farm implements were few, simple, and 
homemade for the most part. There were no 
gang plows, no steam harrows, nor self -binding 
harvesters. The breaking plow had a steel point, 
and a wooden mole board, while the corn planter 
was the five fingered mother hand, or the eight- 
year-old boy ; the covering machine was the heavy 
handled hoe, and the corn harrow was the two 
limbs of a forked tree, with wooden teeth, six 
inches apart, driven through, and extending sev- 
eral inches on the under side. This homely im- 
plement was indispensable in the earlier tilling 
of the corn. Later came the one-shovel plow, 
driven by a single horse, making a round trip 
between rows. Then there were no wheat drills 
or corn planters, the drilling instrument being 



20 ISAAC NEWTON CLARK. 

the industrious husbandman, with thirty or forty 
pounds of seed in an open sack slung over his 
shoulder, walking over the plowed field, thrusting 
empty hand into the sack, gripping to fullness 
of hand the seed, then flinging it broadcast be- 
fore him, this every two or three paces. I have 
seen father so weary after a day of this kind of 
work that he scarcely could move. The wooden 
toothed harrow of home manufacture, followed, 
covering the scattered seed. The crooked sickle 
or reaping hook was the harvesting implement, 
then came the five fingered cradle. This was a 
wonderful invention. The implement that saved 
the meadow grass was the keen edged mowing 
scythe. Holding tightly in the hand the knibs on 
the snead, I have all the day swung this imple- 
ment again and again. The wooden hand rake 
or two-pronged fork spread the mown grass, 
when it was cured, collected it in winrows, and 
put it in cocks or doodles. Every farmer's boy 
made the acquaintance of all these implements 
of industry quite early. 

The laborous process of opening the farm 
went steadily on. Every boy, and there were 
three, then four, later on five, as they became 



THE EARLY DAYS. 21 

able to work, was put at it. Father aimed to add 
from six to ten acres of newly cleared land to 
the farm every spring, and this involved much 
use of chopping axe, grubbing hoe, maul and 
wedge. Trees must be felled, rails split, brush 
and logs must be burned, really there was little 
rest for boys or men in those primitive times. 
But when a few busy years had passed, we had 
quite a farm, and every field was named: The 
"Old Field/' the "North Field," the "Long Field," 
the "Southwest," the "Orchard," the "Big Field"; 
this latter had in it nine acres. The land was 
fresh and unworn; sowing and planting was 
abundantly rewarded, wheat, corn, oats, flax, 
clover, timothy, rye, buckwheat, potatoes, turnips, 
sweet potatoes, were all grown in great plenty. 

In the early years, father put out one hun- 
dred or more fruit trees, apple, pear, peach, 
cherry ; and these grew rapidly, so that in a very 
years we had quantities of fruit. Belleflower, 
Vandevere, Pippins, Rambos, Pearmains, Wine 
Apples, Red Junes, Early Harvests, Genetins, 
Rhode Island Greenings, we had pears, Bartletts, 
Seckles, Flemish Beauties, both Black Morrell 
and early May cherries, and peaches, not every 



22 ISAAC NEWTON CLARK. 

year, but about every second or third season. 
From August to the first of the next April our 
pockets and stomachs were hardly empty of ap- 
ples. We built an apple cellar with numerous 
shelves and bins, and these were all laden with 
fruit, assorted by varieties, kept for use during 
the winter. There was scarcely ever an evening 
when the apple basket was not a family guest. 

The first week of springtime, the garden was 
spaded, beds prepared for the reception of seed, 
radish, onion, lettuce, and potato cuttings were 
in the ground well nigh as soon as the frosts were 
out. Then the garden was worked, earth loos- 
ened, clods pulverized, springing weeds mas- 
sacred, and soon our breakfast and dinner plates 
were laden with all the freshly grown vegetables 
of early spring. 



CHAPTER II. 

IN AND OUT OF SCHOOL. 

We had some schooling, my chief remem- 
brance being of the instruments of authority then 
popular with teachers. The willow twig, the beech 
limb, the dunce block, the ferrule, observation 
corner, and so on. Some cruel schoolmasters 
would punish by pounding pupils with a rule on 
the ends of the fingers till the blood clotted under 
the nails. This abominable outrage was per- 
petrated on my tender extremities by one teacher, 
and I vowed deep down between my jacket pock- 
ets, that when I grew larger, I would wilt and 
wither him, if I could ever find him. Fortunately 
for both of us we never met in after years. 

In 1839, West Point University was built 
on the corner of father's quarter section. It was 
not an elegant or particularly attractive build- 
ing. The timbers of which it was constructed, 
were felled by the woodman's axe in the neign- 
boring forests, and these unhewn logs were ox- 
ened to the university site. The community was 
invited to share in the erection of the building; 
the corner stones were placed, the timbers, un- 



24 ISAAC NEWTON CLARK. 

barked logs, were put in place, round by round, 
corners were notched and matched, until the 
square of the edifice was reached. For joists and 
rafters, poles and saplings, the straightest the 
forest could afford, were used : the roof was con- 
structed of home riven boards of red oak, un- 
jointed and unshaved: the floor was laid of lin- 
den puncheons, four inches thick, laid on great 
foundation sleepers, and razed to uniform thick- 
ness. The heating apparatus was capacious but 
not expensive; furnaces, gasometers and electric 
bulbs had not gone into the educational civiliza- 
tion and refinement of that country at that date. 
An opening six feet wide, four feet high was 
cut in one side of the building, jambs and back- 
wall built of boulders gathered from the brook 
near by. The chimney was made of lath, split 
from oak blocks and laid in mortar made of native 
soil, and in this huge fireplace great logs and bil- 
lets of wood made the heat. The spaces between 
the logs in the walls of this building were filled 
with chunks and split pieces of timber, and cov- 
ered, both inside and out, with mud plaster made 
of the clay in the university campus. 

There was but one room in this school of our$ 









IN AND OUT OP SCHOOL. 25 

and it was study hall, recitation room, gymnasium 
and correction hall, and possibly most needed in 
the last capacity. This was the first school house 
of that region, and remained there for many 
years. 

Our social hours were passed, for the most 
part, in the family circle. These family chats were 
occasions of freedom, with every member at lib- 
erty to share in the discussions. Sometimes 
father would read from the weekly newspaper — 
such things as dailies were unknown. Mother 
would mend the boys' worn trousers, or darn at 
the seemingly never-lessening pile of socks, while 
others of us were studying our school lessons. Oc- 
casionally the boys would have a game of "Fox 
and Geese"; later on we had spelling matches, 
singing schools, apple cuttings, corn huskings and 
wax pullings, and in some of these recreations the 
country folk had immense fun. We did not dance 
— none of us knew how — our innocent feet had not 
learned the cunning of the step. Nor did we 
shuffle or throw cards. None of us knew which 
was worth the more, spades or diamonds. I do 
not know now, and I shall die and go into eternity 
ignorant. I have looked upon the whole card sling- 



26 ISAAC NEWTON CLARK. 

ing business as a dangerous and abominable waste 
of time. 

The singing schools were unique, but suited 
to that time and age. They were occasions of 
much interest and merriment. They were held 
mainly in school houses, though sometimes in priv- 
ate homes. The several parts of music were not 
then quite as now — bass, tenor, alto, treble. Each 
of these had a separate sitting. The teacher would 
give the key in this fashion: "Key, tenor; key, 
bass; key, alto; key, treble; dwell together," or 
sometimes "sound in unison," then we sang, every 
scholar marking the time. Full time must be 
given to rests, open notes, solid notes and dotted 
notes. Special attention was then given to articu- 
lation. Our music was written in what was then 
called patent notes, four notes or characters of 
different shape, Fa, Sol, La, Mi. My voice in 
those early days was clear, and feminine as any 
woman's, and this gave me the opportunity to 
sit and sing treble with the girls, look on the same 
page, and mark time in company with feminine 
hands. It gave me quite a reputation, musically, 
with mothers and daughters. Later on, my voice 
changed to a lower register, until it sounded some- 



IN AND OUT OP SCHOOL. 27 

what like that of the swamp messenger announc- 
ing the coming spring, then I learned that the 
ladies thought more of my voice than of me. 

In the fall and winter months we had school 
and neighborhood exhibitions; dialogues, recita- 
tions, orations, readings, debates, solos and so on 
were staged. We were a lot of ambitious young 
Thespians, and there was timidity, bashfulness, 
greenness, mistake, blunder, pretension and bur- 
lesque, and much undisciplined eloquence, on ex- 
hibition. The community greatly enjoyed these 
improvised entertainments. 

I was quite a boy when into my pocket went 
my first pen knife. It had but one blade, the 
handle was half metal, half bone; it had the dis- 
tinguishing name Barlow. It lifted me to great 
heights, it could hardly stay in my modest little 
pocket, for it had much business outside. Soft 
sticks suffered its merciless attack, but its edge 
was neither keen nor lasting. It was in my thir- 
teenth year that I saw the first money of which I 
could say, "Thou art mine." It had this historic 
setting. When the spring planting was done, there 
was a bit of ground not entirely clear of brush and 
timber, so father said to my brother, next older, 
and myself: "If you will put that ground in order 



28 ISAAC NEWTON CLARK. 

and crop it, you can have all the proceeds." The 
ambitious youngsters, stimulated by the financial 
prospect, worked hard and steady. We had visions 
of coming pieces of silver, but what should we 
grow? That was a puzzling problem. The season 
was quite advanced, spring was nearly gone. 
Someone suggested tobacco, so tobacco it was; 
planted and hoed, it grew rapidly. Topping time 
came — suckers grew rapidly, which must be 
plucked out — worms began to come thick and fast ; 
they grew like Jonah's gourd, to bigness in a 
night. They must be captured and slain ; and the 
battle went on daily for some time. If all the 
eaters and smokers of this filthy weed could have 
one or two good lessons in the slaughter of to- 
bacco worms, and could look on their green, life- 
less carcasses, it might help them to keep lips, 
tongue and breath clean of the poisonous stuff. 
But we cut it, cured it, and sold it for twenty-five 
dollars. With twelve hundred and fifty cents in 
my pocket, I was rich. As a financier, I hardly 
knew whether to buy a farm or a suit of jeans. 
At length, my lofty questionings evaporated; I 
bought a suit, was clothed and in my right mind. 
From that day to this tobacco and this mortal 
have been irreconcilable antagonists. 






CHAPTER III. 

CONVERSION, CALL AND ORDINATION. 

Religion and morality always had respectful 
place and recognition in our home. Mother was 
of German extraction, both of her parents, in- 
deed, being born in Germany. They were mem- 
bers of the Lutheran Church, and in her babyhood 
days she was christened into that church. They 
called it baptism, but she had no voice in this 
meaningless ecclesiastical maneuver, and never 
became a catechumen of the church or went the 
process of confirmation, and she had no recollec- 
tion of being sprinkled. Father was grown in the 
Presbyterian faith, but never united with the 
church. His mother was an intrenched Calvinist, 
a perpendicular and unbending Presbyterian. 
Father was quite a moralist and a fairly diligert 
student of the Bible. He and his mother, who 
lived with us a part of the time, had many dis- 
cussions on various Biblical questions; father 
could not accept infant baptism and church mem- 
bership, as sprinkled by the preacher in his baby 
days. He would say to his mother, "Of what sig- 
nificance or value is that to me, it has no mean- 



30 ISAAC NEWTON CLARK. 

ing," or "Show me the place in the Bible where 
an unconscious unbeliever can be baptized on the 
faith of another. When I am baptized, I want that 
it shall be of my own election, based on faith, pre- 
ceded by information." These convictions came of 
reading God's Book. I am not sure if he ever 
heard a Baptist minister preach until I was quite 
a boy. There were none of this Apostolic sect 
in the section of the country where he lived and 
married. Lutherans and Presbyterians were in 
the ascendancy. 

We were taught to respect the Sunday, and 
show reverent regard to ministers and religious 
people. Ministers occasionally came to our home, 
and were always welcomed and kindly treated. 
Now and then clerical oddities and nicety provoked 
ludicrous remarks from the watching juveniles, 
who were sitting about. The man of God was 
always accorded the best our humble home could 
offer, and he was always invited to hold religious 
service with the family, and in this connection I 
remember some amusing incidents. I recall one 
clerical visitor who came and urged father and 
mother to have the new baby sprinkled and dedi- 
cated to the Lord. I can also recall the very em- 



CONVERSION, CALL AND ORDINATION 31 

phatic manner in which he was informed that 
they needed no counsel as to the management of 
their little one, especially in that direction. 

Another preacher came to spend the night 
with us, who was selling Bibles. He was tall, 
slender, straight, finely clad, and astonishingly 
precise in manner and language. Mother had 
just put down a splendid new rag carpet. The 
boys were very proud of it; they were always 
proud of anything that mother did. We carefully 
cleaned our feet before stepping on the new car- 
pet, but this fastidious fellow, after reading his 
Bible lesson, took a clean white handkerchief from 
his hinder pocket, spread it on the carpet, kneeled 
in graceful fashion upon it, and proceeded to talk 
to God, told him many things about what we need- 
ed and so on. I do not know what God thought 
of that prayer and ecclesiastical performance, but 
mother was hot, and the boys were hotter, and 
none of us cared about seeing that fellow again. 
We thought more of mother's carpet than of him ; 
his prayer, to our young ears, was a sounding 
brass and a tinkling cymbal, and ever after we 
wicked boys called him the white-kneed, white- 
livered parson. He had some beautifully finished 



32 ISAAC NEWTON CLARK. 

Bibles, but the old well-worn Book was good 
enough. The white handkerchief performance 
blocked the purchase of another. 

When fourteen or fifteen years old, although 
I had been much in Sunday School and in church 
nearly every Sunday, yet I was timid about meet- 
ing preachers, as most boys are. If they came 
to our home, it was convenient for me to be else- 
where. I recall one instance, when an evangelist 
stopped with us over night. At the breakfast 
table the following morning, talking to father, the 
boys, with lively imagination, pictured their turn 
next. They abbreviated their meal, however, un- 
der pretense of an urgent call to field work, but 
the preacher was not to be so easily escaped. We 
were in a field, just a short distance from the 
roadside, when he rode into the fence corner and 
called. I was nearest to him. He said: "Come 
down, I want to see you," and my reply was, "I 
cannot leave my work; here I am, look at me." 
He laughed and said good-bye. That was mean of 
me, but sin is always mean and cowardly. The at- 
mosphere of sin is not congenial to prayer and 
religion, and holiness has many a struggle to main- 
tain its lodging in corrupt hearts. Evil and good 



CONVERSON, CALL AND ORDINATION. 33 

can have no common ground of companionship. 
Heaven and Hell had a mighty contest on the 
Mount of Temptation, and the battle field is >n 
every heart, where the Prince of Peace attempts 
to establish his kingdom. The truth is, righteous- 
ness is in eternal battle with unrighteousness. 

Notwithstanding my tendency to shrink from 
the company of preachers and to avoid them, I was 
not wholly impervious to religious impressions, 
and frequently my spirit was disturued by in- 
rushing thoughts of God, sin and the mystery of 
Calvary. I had my own Bible, and often read its 
verses and chapters. I was in Sunday School 
quite regularly, had frequent discussions and con- 
troversies with teachers, not always to find the 
truth, but now and then to gratify a controversial 
spirit. Young people are very wise and opin- 
ionated sometimes ; indeed, in the earlier stages of 
their wisdom, they are quite in advance of the 
venerable and cultured around them. Passing 
years, with their jolting discipline of experience, 
gives splendid correction to these lofty concep- 
tions, when solid fact supplants merely windy 
fancy. 

In addition to the farming industry, my 



34 ISAAC NEWTON CLARK. 

father had a trade which kept him busy, when not 
employed in farm work, in summer and autumn. 
He was a brickmason and plasterer, and an ex- 
pert in wielding the implements of both indus- 
tries. I was often with him and learned to handle 
the trowel and the brick. I can remember many 
experiences of building the wall of masonry, and 
coating with mortar the walls and ceiling of house 
and church. I could build the corner to the line 
and plummet, strike smoothly the mortar joint 
and float and polish the white finish to a room, 
put into place the stretchers and headers in Flem- 
ish bond fashion, build the pilaster, the arch, the 
recess and the chimney, finish the gable and cope 
the wall. This training gave strength to my mus- 
cle and cunning to my fingers. 

It was in a week, while we were building the 
walls of a large house, that in a quiet and thought- 
ful way I decided to give myself and all that I 
might become to the service of Him, who gave 
Himself and was given by his Father for me. 
When this decision was reached, I became very 
anxious to make it known in some positive fash- 
ion, and yet I was troubled and hindered by a 
constitutional timidity. I asked father if he would 



CONVERSION, CALL AND ORDINATION. 35 

conclude the week's work on Saturday, at noon. 
This was unusual, and he said : "Why do you ask 
that question ?" I then told him my decision, and 
that I wanted to attend the Baptist covenant meet- 
ing that afternoon. He made quick reply: "We 
will go home at noon/' At two o'clock, father, 
mother and I went to the meeting. I had not told 
mother of my resolve — I felt strangely — I had 
never been in that kind of a meeting — there were 
about twenty-five persons present — I was the only 
young person and the only one who was not a 
member of the church. The pastor, in his open- 
ing prayer, remembered, in persuasive tones, the 
young man who was present, referring to him as 
the son of one of our noble deacons. The religious 
and business features of the meeting being con- 
cluded, the pastor said : "While we sing a verse, 
if there is any who wants to begin the Christian 
life, by uniting with the people of God, will they 
come forward and take my hand ?" He began the 
verse 

" 'Tis religion that can give 
Sweetest pleasures while we live; 
Tis religion must supply 
Solid comfort when we die." 



36 ISAAC NEWTON CLARK. 

I stepped forward, took the pastor's hand ; he held 
my young hand tightly, the tears rolling down his 
cheeks; at length he said: "Praise the Lord." 
The people were all astonished and tearful; I 
caught sight of my father and mother; he was 
holding her and they were weeping together. I 
gave the people a few words concerning my life 
and my new decision. "But," I said, "you know 
me. I want to be baptized and follow and honor 
my Lord and King." The company of disciples 
gave me cordial welcome with pass of handgrip, 
and words of happy greeting. Never was the 
caress of father and the kiss of mother warmer 
and more comforting. The next day, the first Sun- 
day in September, 1852, I was baptized into the 
fellowship of the Baptist church in Rossville, Ind., 
Clinton County. Rev. J. M. Smith was the pas- 
tor who baptized me. 

The following winter, I taught school and 
gave myself to Bible reading and theological study, 
under the direction of Prof. Emmanuel Sharf of 
Delphi, Ind. I think he was formerly president of 
Jefferson College, Pennsylvania. In March, the 
spring of 1853, I preached what may be called my 
first sermoin; it was, however, not punctured 



CONVERSION, CALL AND ORDINATION. 37 

with sermonic elements, but a rushing, rambling 
talk. The people thought it was preaching, but 
I have not used the text of that morning to this 
day. I knew as much or more then about its 
meaning than I do now. It is not unusual for 
young preachers to make the effort to penetrate 
big problems or navigate deep and unexplored 
seas. A young preacher told me about that time, 
that he delighted to grapple with quaint texts and 
odd subjects, such as "A Living Dog Is Better 
Than a Dead Lion/' "I Have Put My Coat Off and 
How Shall I Put It On?" Themes like these also 
sometimes get hold of the young ecclesiastic: 
"The Unconsumed Bush," "The Wedge at the Bot- 
tom of the Lake," "The Budding Rod," "The Gold- 
en Calf," "The Upper Room," "The Strait 
Gate." 

In the fall of 1853, the churches in Monticello 
and Burnettsville, White County, Indiana, invited 
me to become their pastor, and requested the 
church in Rossville to call a council to consider 
my ordination. The call of the council was is- 
sued, the churches of the Judson Association were 
invited, and the council met on the first Saturday 
in December, 1853, at ten a. m. The ministers 



38 ISAAC NEWTON CLARK. 

present were the Rev. John Kerr, Moses Kerr, 
Robert B. Craig, James M. Smith, Beverly R. 
Ward, and Dr. F. D. Bland. The council organized 
by electing Dr. Bland, moderator, and R. B. Craig, 
secretary. There were three candidates for ordi- 
nation, Dr. Daniel Ivans, Stephen S. Clark, and 
Isaac Newton Clark, and they were introduced to 
the council by their pastor, Rev. J. M. Smith. Dr. 
Bland was chosen to conduct the examination. 
This concerned the call to enter Christian serv- 
ice, the call to preach the Gospel, and the candi- 
date's views of Bible doctrine. The examination 
was lengthy and rigid, patiently prosecuted, and 
satisfactorily finished. The council voted unani- 
mously to proceed to the ordination on the Sunday 
following. Order of exercise: 1. Sermon, by F. 
D. Bland; 2. Charge, by John G. Kerr; 3. Prayer 
of ordination, by Moses Kerr; 4. Laying on of 
hands by council; 5. Benediction, by Dr. Ivans. 






CHAPTER IV. 



EARLY PASTORATES. 



Following the work of this council, with the 
tremendous responsibilities its investigation and 
charge thrust upon me, or rather enabled me to 
see, filled with an overwhelming sense of inabil- 
ity to measure up to the demand and solemnities 
of the task, my pastoral career began. Pittsburg 
invited me to give its church one-fourth time; 
thus my entire time was taken. I traveled one 
hundred and fifteen miles every month, mainly 
on horseback. There were no automobiles or elec- 
tric easy-goers in that day. 

In April, 1854, I took the hand of Clarissa S. 
Painter in marriage. Her home was in Michigan- 
town, Clinton County ; her parents, Methodist, and 
she the only Baptist in the family, and she was 
providentially designed and splendidly equipped to 
be the loving and efficient helper to a Baptist 
preacher and pastor. Our home was pitched in 
Pittsburg, on the hill. I built a little house of two 
rooms, and upper room; it was an humble look- 



40 ISAAC NEWTON CLARK. 

ing tenement, but a home, our own, paid for, and 
chiefly the work of my own hands. 

Every pastorate has its local incidents, so 
Burnettville was not exceptional. The member- 
ship was strong and united, congregations were 
unusually large, conversions and baptisms were 
frequent. As the fruitage of one meeting of fif- 
teen days, forty-three were baptized at one time, 
on a bright Sunday afternoon, in a beautiful lake, 
three miles east of the village. Among the number 
was a beautiful girl of sixteen summers, whose 
parents and family were Methodists and bitterly 
opposed to their daughter becoming a Baptist. 
Finally, her father told her that she was old 
enough to decide for herself, she could exercise 
her own pleasure, but if she united with the Bap- 
tist church, she must find another home. She be- 
sought her father to give her conscience liberty, 
and still allow her to remain in her home, as a 
member of the family. But he was unrelenting, 
and I shall never forget the dear girl's grief, as 
we passed her father's home on the way to the 
water. He had said to her: "If you go to the 
water and are baptized, do not come back here.'' 
She was baptized; coming out of the water, she 



EARLY PASTORATES. 41 

calmly remarked: "All this for Him, who gave 
Himself for me." Just then, one of the strong 
men of the church, a deacon, and a neighbor to 
the father, stepping to the girl's side and taking 
her hand, said : "You will go to my house ; that 
will be your home as long as you shall need a 
home." She went past her father's place to that 
good deacon's home. That was a bitter night in 
her father's house ; sleep was driven out, grief was 
theirs, self-condejmnation was theirs, God was 
there. The dawn of the early morning found a 
messenger at the home of the deacon, with a 
splendid note, signed "Father and Mother," say- 
ing to daughter : "Come home." There was gen- 
uine joy that morning in the father's home as 
the Baptist girl was welcomed back, and sat down 
with Methodist parents in a restored family cir- 
cle. Maggie MaHuran was a bright, intelligent 
Christian girl, and followed her conviction of 
truth. She afterward became the wife of a young 
Baptist minister, who served several churches suc- 
cessfully, but who died young. His widow, later 
on, became the wife of another minister, whose 
name is fragrant in many churches. Truth does 
not always have smooth and pleasant sailing. 

It was here that I conducted my first mar- 



42 ISAAC NEWTON CLARK. 

riage ceremony; it was a church affair and my 
good wife said I was practicing on chairs and 
hymnbooks for weeks before the real thing came. 
She had a lively imagination. 

During this pastorate, our people decided to 
build a substantial and comfortable meeting place. 
The money was raised, the contract let, and the 
house was well-nigh enclosed when a pitiless 
twisting wind demolished it, breaking in pieces 
much of the timber. For a time there was paraly- 
sis upon our people ; they seemed utterly crushed. 
This seemed an opportune time for a proselyting 
congregation to ply their cunning in the use of a 
little ecclesiastical diplomacy, and immediately an 
invitation came to our discouraged people to oc- 
cupy their meeting house when they were not us- 
ing it. This invitation was heartily accepted, and 
my first sermon in that pulpit was on a Sunday 
morning. It was suggested by these words: 
"Thou wilt show me the path of life. In thy 
presence there is fullness of joy, at thy right hand 
there are pleasures forevermore." My theme was 
the sovereignty of God in personal salvation. In 
the afternoon my appointment was in the country. 
That afternoon, the pastor of the people, in whose 



EARLY PASTORATES. 43 

house we were worshipping, preached to his peo- 
ple, using my text of the morning. I suspect he 
gave a more modernized, natural and illumined 
interpretation, at the same time indulging in some 
critical flings at the young theologian, and the 
unreasonable and unbiblical character of his de- 
nomination. 

Our people were disconcerted and ablaze. 
They met me on my return from the afternoon 
service and told me what had occurred, saying: 
"You must vindicate yourself and our church." 
It was then time for service, the excitement was 
on, the house was packed with an excited and 
somewhat belligerent throng. My brethren said : 
"You must reply tonight." I said: "How can I? 
I have no preparation and my mind is on another 
subject." 

They were insistent and I went onto that 
platform, at sea as to what to say, no text, no sub- 
ject, as it seemed, suited to that hour. I an- 
nounced the hymn, "Amazing Grace, How Sweet 
the Sound." While the people sang, I prayed, 
"Lord, prepare my heart and brain and tongue 
for the work of this hour that thou mayest be 
honored and Thy truth vindicated." The prayer 



44 ISAAC NEWTON CLARK. 

was made, the last hymn was announced, and still 
I had no text or subject. During the singing of 
this last hymn, in a moment, like a flash of light, 
the suggestion came. Why not use again the verse 
of the morning ? My troubled spirit was at ease. 
The singing over, I said : "No preacher has ever 
exhausted a text of the inexhaustible Book. Your 
attention is invited tonight to Psalm 16:11, "Thou 
wilt show me the path of life, etc." Never in ail 
the years of my ministry have I been more con- 
scious of the divine help than that night. The 
pastor, with many of his flock, was there with 
pencil and note book. I contented myself with re- 
affirming and re-enforcing what I had said in the 
morning. 

At the close of the service, the pastor came to 
me in an apologetic way, and said : "My brother, 
there should be no controversy between us; your 
people and ours are so nearly one that they ought 
to come together, and have but one church. Be- 
sides, your meetinghouse is destroyed, you wiil 
not need to build another, our house will accom- 
modate all of us. Why not all unite?" I listened 
to this specious bit of diplomacy, and asked him 
several questions: "When is a penitent sinner 



EARLY PASTORATES. 45 

pardoned ?" "When he obeys in believing," he 
answered, "more than that, when he obeys in the 
water of baptism." I said: "Is pardon absolute- 
ly restricted to baptismal environment?" He 
said : "There is no promise or assurance of par- 
don outside of baptism." I asked : "What then is 
the condition of the multitude — Methodists, Pres- 
byterians and others who have not been in the 
water?" He answered: "That is between them 
and their Lord; I do not judge them. God's way 
of saving men is through faith and baptism." I 
then said : "You suggest one organization ; do you 
hold any position or opinion that you are willing 
to surrender for the sake of one organization?" 
He said : "Since we are on the Book, we could hard- 
ly give up anything in justice to our Lord." That 
was the end of that chapter. The fact was ap- 
parent, that, taking advantage of what the storm 
had done, our houseless and discouraged condi- 
tion, they had planned to swallow us, but the mor- 
sel was too large to be taken in, and too tough and 
hard to be masticated. In fifteen months the 
Baptists were on the hill in a new meeting house, 
and were happy and prosperous. 

Another incident in connection with this first 
pastorate may be mentioned. A special meeting 



46 ISAAC NEWTON CLARK 

in the interest of the Monticello church was held 
about seven miles from the city in a school house. 
The weather was severely cold, snow six inches 
deep, and sleighing superb. The meetings were 
thronged and there were many conversions. The 
time came for baptizing. Tippecanoe River ran 
hard by. It was solidly frozen over, but our 
brethren removed the ice at the upper point of an 
island. Presbyterian and Methodist people criti- 
cised us most ruthlessly for presuming to take 
people into that cold water, some of the more im- 
pulsive even going so far as to say the law ought 
to intervene and arrest the preacher. Some said 
it smacked of deliberate murder. 

The day was clear, sunny and beautiful ; great 
crowds came to see the baptism. They were not 
content to stand on the riverbank, but that they 
might see the better, a lot of these critical folk 
gathered on the ice, circling the open space, where 
I was baptizing. Three or four persons had been 
baptized ; I was standing in the water with a can- 
didate, in readiness to administer the ordinance, 
when suddenly a crack in the ice, running from 
bank to bank, sounded like a piece of exploding 
artillery. There was a hasty and panicky scat- 



EARLY PASTORATES. 47 

teration, the rush broke the ice into many pieces, 
and there were a lot of Presbyterian and Metho- 
dist feet immersed before they touched the solid 
bank. It was scarcely worth while to ask these 
folk about the temperature of that water. Their 
criticisms seemed to be silenced in this new, un- 
expected and icy experience. The removal of a 
few blocks of floating ice enabled us to complete 
the baptism, and not one of those who went into 
that icy river suffered the slightest impairment 
of health. Perhaps this is the place to say that of 
the nearly two thousand I have led into baptismal 
water, I have not heard of one whose health was 
injured, thereby or therein. 

In the spring of 1885, 1 closed my service with 
Monticello and Burnettsville, desiring to lessen the 
amount of travel. Continuing the work at Pitts- 
burg, I accepted the care of Jordan, Sugar Creek, 
and Laramie churches, for one-fourth time each. 
This change concentrated my work quite a little 
and gave me more time for reading and the more 
studied preparation of sermons. Seasons of re- 
vival and refreshing came to each of these 
churches that winter ; in one of them thirty-seven 
believers, in another, twenty-eight; it was a grac- 
ious harvest time. 



CHAPTER V. 

WANDERINGS IN THE WEST. 

In the spring of 1856, I was seized with the 
spirit of adventure. I had heard of the Missis- 
sippi and Missouri rivers, had traced their wind- 
ings in the atlas, but had not seen them, indeed, 
had never looked on stream more majestic than 
the raging Wabash. With ten twenty-dollar gold 
pieces in a leather belt, buckled around my body, 
inside my clothing, I set out for the alluring West. 
St. Louis was the biggest thing in city fashion 
that I had ever seen, and I spent two days with 
distended vision, catching something of things 
new and wonderful. I stopped at the Planters' 
Hotel, and, to accommodate my purse, took a room 
on the fourth story, on the court. My appetite 
for chicken, which had always been famous, suf- 
fered a tremendous collapse here, as I saw the 
method of preparing this part of the bill of fare 
as it progressed in the court below. I have not 
forgotten the Planters' from that day to this, even 
though chicken was cut out of dinners there. 

At St. Louis, I took passage on a steamer, 
bound for Kansas City and St. Joseph. There 



WANDERINGS IN THE WEST. 49 

were no railroads in operation west of St. Louis, 
though the Missouri Pacific and the Hannibal & 
St. Joseph were building. The steamer carried 
both freight and passengers. Its statesrooms 
were all taken, its deck and hold were full of 
freight, every variety of merchandise. Some 
amusing incidents occurred. One night, after the 
passengers had gone to their statesrooms, we 
struck a sandbar solidly. The old boat screeched 
and trembled, many of the ladies came rushing out 
of their statesrooms in great fear and alarm, some 
of them wringing their hands and screaming in 
the excitement and distress. Just then the cap- 
tain appeared, commanding them to their rooms 
with several expletives not overly polite. "Say, 

you fools, do you think you can sink on a 

sandbar ?" There was a sudden disappearance 
of night robes and beautiful faces. 

Kansas City landing was finally announced, 
our boat pulled in and was cabled to the bank. 
The landing was on hand, but the city had not 
arrived. The then Main Street was not a street, 
but a muddy winding roadway, used for the most 
part in wagoning goods from the landing out to 
the village of Westport, now a part of the city. 



50 ISAAC NEWTON CLARK. 

There was at that time not a graded street or a 
paved sidewalk in the place. There was not a 
perceivable ray of hope suggesting the coming of 
a great, commanding, commercial metropolis. 
Leavenworth had much more the promise of great- 
ness. If I had put down my pieces of gola here at 
that time, and kept them down about the junc- 
tion of Main and Deleware Streets, I might 
have been a ruined preacher, but a commercial 
millionaire. My financial vision had limited 
range. 

I left the Missouri River at Weston, and trav- 
eled on foot to Bedford, la., a distance of some- 
thing more than a hundred miles. I walked into 
Stewartsville late one Saturday night, and stopped 
at a little wooden hotel. I was legweary and mud- 
dy, for I had walked nearly thirty miles that day. 
After supper, in conversation with the landlady, 
she remarked : "You look and talk like a preach- 
er. Are you a preacher?" I replied a little timid- 
ly: "Yes, I preach sometimes/' "What denomi- 
nation ?" she asked. "Baptist/' I said, and quick- 
ly she responded: "I thought you looked like a 
Baptist. I am a Baptist, and tomorrow is our 
meeting day. The streams are so full, our preach- 



WANDERINGS IN THE WEST. 51 

er cannot get here. You will preach for us. We 
will be more than pleased to have you." The 
morning came, warm and beautiful. I went with 
the good lady to Sunday School. She told the 
superintendent and others that I was a preacher, 
but it seemed to me, from the style of their glances, 
as if they said : "May be so ; he may be a preach- 
er, but he has a boyish look." They invited me 
to preach at eleven o'clock, no matter what their 
questionings may have been. A fine congregation 
came together. I took for my text, John 3:14: 
"As Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness, 
even so must the Son of man, etc." I traced the 
parallel between the pole and its treasure in the 
wilderness, and the cross and its treasure on 
Calvary. "The parallelism is seen," I said, "in 
this: First, both were appointed to cure; second, 
both were divine inventions; third, both must be 
lifted up; fourth, both must be apprehended; 
fifth, both cured all who apprehended them." At 
the conclusion, one of the deacons jumped up and 
said : "The young brother will preach for us to- 
night." That night the little meeting house was 
crowded to the door, I preached, the Spirit helped 
me. Afterwards the good people put ten dollars 
into my hand, the hotel would have no pay for my 



52 ISAAC NEWTON CLARK. 

stopping, and Monday morning a young brother 
came, with saddled horses, and carried me twenty 
miles on my journey. That was Christian clever- 
ness. It was sixty years ago, but the memory of 
that Sunday in Stewartsville stays with me. 

The spring was very wet; the streams were 
much swollen, and I had difficulty in crossing 
their swift currents. I came to Platte River, and 
it was running bank full, out over the valleys in 
some places. There was neither bridge nor ferry, 
just a small dugout canoe, and that on the oppo- 
site bank, so I called loudly several times, until a 
boy about twelve years old came out. I called: 
''Can you canoe me across the river," and he re- 
plied, "I can try." He managed to put the boat 
to my side, but the current had driven him down 
stream several rods below the landing. 

When I stepped into the canoe, he pushed out, 
but he had only one paddle, the current was fierce, 
and beat us rapidly down stream. I said : "Let 
me try." He handed me the oar, but before I could 
get into a position to use it, the current had turned 
our boat quite around. I handed the paddle back 
and told him to beat hard on the left side until 
we got out of the current. The little fellow 



WANDERINGS IN THE WEST. 53 

worked like a Trojan, but with very little result. 
Presently, I discovered the limb of a tree extend- 
ing out over the water and bending quite low, so 
I said : "Try to get the boat under that limb, I 
will catch it and pull us to the shore." We came 
under the tree, but it was higher than I thought. 
Standing, I made a jump, caught the limb, but 
came down with one foot outside the canoe. I 
struggled to keep footing in the canoe, and hold 
the limb, calling on the heroic boy meanwhile to 
beat with all his might on the lower side. Fin- 
ally we got the canoe out of the current and made 
landing, but we were fifty rods and more down 
stream. That courageous boy and that venture- 
some preacher would be a long time forgetting 
that canoe ride. With bag in hand, I pulled my- 
self on about ten miles. I was meeting a heavy 
thunder storm and wondering where I was going 
to spend the night, when just as the rain began 
to fall, I came to a small two-roomed farm house. 
I hastened in and asked for shelter, which was 
kindly given me. 

There were four members in that family, the 
parents, a boy, ten years old, and a young girl of 
about seventeen. That night the rain fell in to*:- 



54 ISAAC NEWTON CLARK. 

rents, the lightning blazed, the thunder rolled and 
roared, but about eight o'clock the girl's best fel- 
low came in. Evidently this was an engagement, 
and great matters were to receive attention. Pres- 
ently the parents, the boy and the stranger re- 
tired, but all in the same room. The suitor was 
plainly clad, bedticking trousers, hickory shirt, 
suspenders of wool yarn, home knit, a much worn 
straw hat, unpolished shoes, and sockless feet. It 
was evidently the man the girl admired, and not 
the apparel. The light extinguished, the wooing 
couple sat and whispered, until they had reason to 
think all sleepers were asleep. Then gradually 
and easily the whispering turned into outspoken 
articulate words. There was one curiously wake- 
ful, motionless sinner in that room, who heard the 
loving deliverances, the extravagant statements 
of devotion, the anticipated bliss of coming days. 
The great event was mentioned, the date was 
fixed, then the edifying touch of lips and the good- 
night. The next morning, the stranger incident- 
ally mentioned the fact that the thunder and light- 
ning had kept him awake the greater part of the 
night. The girl instantly said: "Ma, I believe 
in my soul that man heard what me and Jim 
talked about last night." 



WANDERINGS IN THE WEST. 55 

A footman's journey of twenty-five miles the 
following day, across the unoccupied prairie, 
brought me into Bedford, Taylor County, Iowa. 
Here I met the Rev. J. M. Smith, who had bap- 
tized me, and the Rev. D. Ivans, who was ordained 
with me. A delightful stay of two weeks in this 
new land gave me opportunity to preach many 
times. One Sunday I preached the recognition 
sermon to a newly organized church. I stood on 
the log carriage of a sawmill, the people sat on 
piles of lumber and unsawed logs. There were 
twenty-eight vehicles that brought people to that 
service, sixteen of them drawn by oxen. Finely 
cultured people went about in those days drawn 
by horny horses. There was genuine old-time re- 
ligion in that meeting, and it was peculiarly pleas- 
ant to preach to them, for the God of the Sab- 
bath was with me and the people. 



CHAPTER VI. 

BACK IN INDIANA. 

Concluding my work in Monticello and Bur- 
nettsville, I supplied four churches for a time, 
Pittsburg, Sugar Creek, Jordan and Laramie. The 
people were poor, money was scarce, and the sal- 
ary was small. With an old horse and buggy, 
wife and I went from church to church, healthy 
and happy in the work. The good women of the 
churches loved Mrs. Clark, and kept our buggy 
laden with edibles, ham, sausage, flour, butter, 
egg&> potatoes, lard and, of course, chickens. We 
lived nicely, comfortably. The pastor can have 
no better asset than a companionable, sensible 
wife. 

Called to Southport and Greenwood, Ind., in 
1857, 1 found both of these churches strong, united 
and aggressive. The congregations were uniform- 
ly large, and conversions and baptisms frequent. 
At Southport, twenty-two young people were bap- 
tized at one time; there were eleven young men 
and eleven young women, one of whom, Miss Mary 
McFarlan, afterwards became the wife of Rev. 



BACK IN INDIANA. 57 

E. S. Riley, who was in later years pastor at North 
Topeka, Manhattan and Garnett, Kas. 

East of Southport, four or five miles, there 
was an anti-mission church; in fact, anti-educa- 
tion and anti on many other lines. Some of their 
young people attended our services, were convert- 
ed and baptized, and asked me if I would preach 
in this anti-mission church. I agreed, if the way 
could be opened, and the arrangement was made 
and the appointment announced. The people came 
in great numbers ; there was something new under 
the sun. I preached, text: "By grace are ye 
saved," and after the sermon, an old deacon arose 
and said: "If the young man always preaches 
thataway, he can preach here agin," so a second 
appointment was made. The second sermon 
touched upon the largeness of the divine provision 
for the recovery of lost men. Deacon Moore's 
head wagged significantly and negatively, and as 
the sermon ended he jumped to his feet once more, 
and said : "We want no more preachin' like that 
in this house." They have had nothing like it 
since, and for the last twenty years have had no 
preaching at all. The house is used for a hay 
barn. Two sermons rounded out my theological 



58 



ISAAC NEWTON CLARK. 



performances in that place, but I had the pleasure 
of baptizing many of their young people in the 
after years, among them two grandsons and one 
granddaughter of the old man who had told me: 
"No more preaching of that sort in this house. ,, 



West of Greenwood, about six miles, there 
was a very thrifty community along White River, 
which had been largely overlooked by religious 
propagandists. A neighborhood meeting house 
had been built. It was a community house, but the 
United Brethren had managed to get complete 
control. We had a Baptist deacon who lived in 
that section, and one of the trustees of the United 
Brethren church frequently came to our church 
in Greenwood with him. At length he gave me 
a pressing invitation to preach in their house. 
The invitation was finally accepted, services being 
held every three weeks for a number of months. 
Then an arrangement was made for me to spend a 
week or more in the community, preach every 
night, visit among the people in the daytime. I 
met the people, both in their church and home 
life, and interest in the services grew from the 
beginning. The house was too small to accommo- 
date the crowds that came. Toward the end of the 



BACK IN INDIANA. 59 

week several members of the United Brethren 
church said to me : "Why not give the people an 
opportunity to express themselves ?" I said: 
" Shall I give them an opportunity to unite either 
with the United Brethren church, or with the 
Baptist church in Greenwood?" They replied: 
"That is right; give that opportunity/ 9 

Friday night, that liberty was extended, and 
to the surprise of all, ten persons came forward, 
among them, the man and his wife who had given 
the land on which the church stood, the brother 
to the chairman of the board of trustees, and his 
wife, who was a member of the United Brethren 
church; a daughter of a Methodist minister, and 
six others. They were received, and all made 
application for membership in the Baptist church. 
At the close of the meeting, I announced that I 
would be there one week from the following Sun- 
day, preach and administer baptism. Before 
leaving for Greenwood that night, I thought I 
detected the intonations of an approaching, ec- 
clesiastical earthquake. There were sullen mut- 
terings. The presiding elder who had the man- 
agement of that kingdom, was speedily notified 
of conditions. An obstructive policy was proj- 



60 ISAAC NEWTON CLARK. 

ected. My appointment was to be displaced by 
their circuit preacher. 

When I reached the place, the house was 
crowded, and multitudes were on the premises out- 
side. I never saw anything comparable to it on 
that hill. The circuit rider was in the pulpit; I 
had never met him, and wondered why he was 
there at my appointment, but I spoke with him 
and enquired his name. He replied : "My name 
is Cox, Irwin Cox, and I am sent here by our pre- 
siding elder to preach today." "But," I said, "I 
am to preach today by appointment for a special 
purpose." He answered : "I am here for a special 
purpose, to preach today." Then, with Baptist 
emphasis, I said: "This is my appointment and 
not yours, and I shall proceed to fill it." Picking 
up the Bible, I began to read the opening lesson, 
prayed and announced the text : "Blessed are they 
that do His commandments, that they may have 
right to the tree of life." The sermon considered 
the source of authority in the kingdom, it had doc- 
trine, duty, emphasis, it had Baptist flavor, all 
Bible truth has. The sermon finished, we went 
to the water and baptized ten believers. The 
circuit rider announced that he would preach that 



BACK IN INDIANA. 61 

night, and that "the Baptists could not use that 
house again." 

To say there were angry people on Chapel 
Hill that day does not adequately express it. I 
heard nothing from the field of battle for a fort- 
night or more, then a message came from Deacon 
Spencer and others, saying, "Come as soon as you 
can, and preach. We have a place for you." Sun- 
day afternoon, one week later, I was there. The 
place was packed to the door with people ; an old 
wealthy farmer, named Sutton, not a member of 
any church, acted as spokesman. He met me at 
the door, conducted me down the aisle, and to the 
stand, and then addressed me as follows : "Broth- 
er, we believe in freedom in religion. We heard 
all the sermons you preached in the house across 
the way. These sermons should not have offended 
anyone, but we saw you, and many of our neigh- 
bors, who helped to build that house, denied the 
use of it, and we have no sympathy with the out- 
rage. We have built this chapel for you, and in it 
we want to hear you preach. We present it to 
you today, and we have designated it as Clark's 
Chapel." I thanked the old man and the sympa- 
thetic people, and proceeded to preach. It was a 



62 ISAAC NEWTON CLARK. 

comfortable building, thirty by sixty, plank sid- 
ing and roof, large windows, board sittings, and 
many times did I preach in that tentative place. 
Souls were therein born to the Kingdom. Later, 
a church was organized and a good meeting house 
erected. 

The following two years were given in labor- 
ious and almost unrestricted service to the Indiana 
Baptist State Convention. Strength and time 
were overtaxed in the effort. Several new mis- 
sions were established, new lines of work were 
perfected and funds enough were secured to meet 
all current outlays at the end of each quarter. 
Thousands of miles were traveled, and an ad- 
dress or sermon reached the average of one for 
every day in the year. 



CHAPTER VII. 

BITTER DAYS — WAR ANIMOSITIES. 

In 1861, came the internal disturbance, and 
the country was plunged into the cruelties and 
carnage of civil war. Sectional bitterness was 
rampant, communities and states were divided and 
battle-stirred, and religious interests were para- 
lyzed, or consumed in the enveloping tide of an- 
tagonism. Missionary activities were largely sus- 
pended. The blood-reeking sword had in great 
measure taken the place of the sword of the Spirit. 
The strokes were between the swords of Richmond 
and Washington. 

The disagreement, which had been gradually 
growing for years between the North and the 
South, culminated in an open rupture and organ- 
ized separation. The Southern states, by legisla- 
tive action, annulled their relation to the Ameri- 
can Union, and established a new Confederate 
Government. This at once necessitated the re- 
moval or surrender of all forts and arsenals, and 
any other properties held by the United States, 
located within the territory of the Confederate 
States, and this was a condition the United States 



64 ISAAC NEWTON CLARK. 

could not and did not recognize. This govern- 
ment could not recognize the right of the disrup- 
tion of the Union and the formation of a new 
government on the territory of the United States, 
and immediately the war was on. Forts Sumter 
and Moultrie quickly fell under the pitiless as- 
sault of the Southern soldiery, South Carolina be- 
ing foremost in this attack. The authority of the 
government being thus disregarded and defied, 
with unprecedented haste, the war cry resounded 
in all the land. The drums were beating battle 
notes in every town and village, men were enlist- 
ing by the thousands and hundreds of thousands, 
great armies began to march into terrific and 
deadly combat; sectional hatred and the spirit of 
revenge and intolerance had well nigh driven 
the possibility of compromise, of considerate ar- 
bitration, of peace, other than at the sword's 
point and the cannon's mouth, from the country. 

To attempt to stand unswayed by this sweep- 
ing tide was no trifling task. To believe in one's 
country, and not believe in and endorse the war, 
was to be misunderstood, misrepresented, and in 
some cases, to be wickedly abused. There were a 
few men who believed the entire controversy could 



BITTER DAlYS— W1AR ANIMOSITIES. 65 

have been settled without killing a man, much less 
hundreds of thousands of men, but he who did not 
talk war was scarcely permitted to talk at all; 
the preacher who did not preach war was cash- 
iered, and abused, notwithstanding, he was sent 
to proclaim "The glad tidings of peace on earth, 
good will to men." There were a few, not cow- 
ards, but men with a conscience, that would not 
permit them to kill their brethren, who did not 
advocate war, to shoulder a musket and fire the 
deadly shot, and I belonged to this class of non- 
combatants. 

I kept on preaching the old soul-saving Gos- 
pel, just as if there were no war; there was no 
occasion for preaching anything else, and noth- 
ing else could better meet prevailing conditions, 
or so it seemed to me. But an intolerant spirit 
ruled the country-side, and when I was from home, 
preaching a dedicatory sermon, one of my deacons 
came to my house and told Mrs. Clark that I must 
announce myself in favor of the war, and advocate 
its necessity in the pulpit, if I did not, I would lose 
my pastorate. Mrs. Clark answered that I was 
and ever had been true to my country and its 
laws, but that I did not feel that my relation to 



66 ISAAC NEWTON CLARK. 

God and man called for the advocacy or adoption 
of a death-dealing policy. The good deacon was 
much disturbed and excited. Rumors were on the 
breeze, and were easily wafted from ear to ear. 
Three nights after, some courageous patriot hung 
on my front gate post a cross, a piece of rope, 
and a coffin, suggestive of coming events, if that 
war cry did not get into my pulpit. In unterri- 
fied fashion, that pulpit continued to preach Di- 
vine comfort to troubled saints, and salvation to 
penitent sinners. 

Greenwood furnished a company of soldiers 
for the war, the captain and first lieutenant and 
many others being members of my church, whom 
I had baptized. On the occasion of the company's 
departure for the battle zone, I made an address 
to the boys, in response to their request, and 
asked God's protection and blessing upon them. 
But the war spirit was aflame and it became more 
and more hazardous to hint at any possible ad- 
justment. Both of my churches said to me: "We 
love you, believe you are a good and honest man. 
We love to hear you preach, you preach the Gos- 
pel, but you do not endorse the war as we think 
you should, and we fear you are not loyal." 



BITTER DAYS— WAR ANIMOSITIES. 67 

So, being elected to the office of superintend- 
ent of state missions, by the convention board, late 
in 1861, I accepted this call, and closing my pas- 
torate with the Greenwood and Southport 
churches, I moved my family to Indianapolis. Im- 
mediately, I gave myself to the convention work, 
with all possible earnestness. The cause of state 
missions met with cordial greeting and generous 
responses everywhere, the empty treasury began 
to fill, old missions were strengthened, new mis- 
sions were opened, the glow of activity and ad- 
vance was written on the countenances of the 
brethren. All financial obligations were met, and 
we had a small balance in the bank, and I was 
preaching the word of the Lord, everywhere, the 
best I knew how. 

But the war fever waxed warmer with every 
new month, missionary fervor began to weaken, 
mischievous tongues were wagging, my attitude 
was more and more misinterpreted. In 1862, the 
Indiana Baptist State Convention met in annual 
session in the First Baptist church of Indianapo- 
lis, with about one hundred ministers and mes- 
sengers present. Dr. Silas Bailey was chosen 
president. One of the resolutions offered was 



68 ISAAC NEWTON CLARK. 

about this in substance, and was submitted by the 
Rev. J. S. Irwin : "Resolved, That he who is not 
in favor of the vigorous prosecution of this war- 
is disloyal to the government, and is looked upon 
as our enemy, the enemy of our children, the 
enemy of the church, and the enemy of God." 
Three men spoke against the resolution, Silas 
Tucker, J. W. Ragsdale and I. N. Clark, referring 
to its vindictive, unchristian, and denunciatory 
spirit, after which a standing vote was called. 

When those opposed were asked to stand, 
Tucker and Ragsdale sat still, and I. N. Clark, and 
he alone, was on his feet. But I never voted more 
conscientiously. I was amazed that those who 
had been my warmest friends, even the man who 
had preached my ordination sermon, should and 
could vote for this wickedly pernicious resolution, 
and I could not see how any of them could have 
any fellowship with me after such a vote. I 
talked with many of them, and asked : "Do you 
really think that I am your enemy, an enemy to 
your children, an enemy to God? What have T 
done to justify such thought and action?" They 
said : "No act, but rather what you have not done. 
You are on the wrong side. We love you, but we 



BITTER DAYS— WAR ANIMOSITIES. 69 

love you as we love our enemies/ ' These breth- 
ren expressed much sympathy for me, and won- 
dered why I would not bear the sword and kill the 
enemies of the government, but I still held the 
opinion that wrong had been done on both sides, 
and that genuine religion and true patriotism 
might have settled the matter without shot or 
shell. However, conservatism seemed impossible, 
and I closed my convention engagement, and went 
into ecclesiastical seclusion, hoping for the time 
to come again when the song of redemption would 
be as gladly heard as the battle cry. 

This was the great defeat of my life, and it 
seemed a very Waterloo, no pastorate, no work, 
no support, and many of my most trusted brethren 
arrayed against me without cause or justification. 
To be causelessly cashiered, spurned, shunned, mis- 
represented, even denounced and vilified, and at 
times in danger for my life and liberty, was a bit- 
ter experience. Every life seems to have such a 
chapter, sometimes a long time coming, but in- 
evitable for most of us. The war cloud, with its 
merciless storm and tempest, brought it to me. I 
seemed utterly forsaken, and for a time retired to 
the solitude of my humble home. I had no in- 
come, but we owned a small piece of land, and 



70 ISAAC NEWTON CLARK. 

this I worked as best I could. It gave us our 
vegetables and furnished wood for winter fuel. 
Mrs. Clark was very resourceful and we managed 
to live in a very simple and economic fashion. In 
the fall I took a place as a helper in a grain 
warehouse, shoveled wheat and corn, carried sacks 
of grain, weighed out loads of merchandise, went 
through all the routine and roughness of the 
hardest kind of day labor. Many a night I was so 
leg-weary that to get to my home was a struggle, 
but I had to walk, for the carfare must be saved 
for the purchase of bread. 

But I was not wholly forgotten; there were 
some whose confidence remained, whose sympathy 
lingered with me, who had waited upon my minis- 
try in other years. These came to my relief, and 
unsought contributions came from generous hands 
in many places, from Greenwood, Morgantown, 
Trafalgar, Shelbyville, Greencastle, Thorntown, 
Rossville, Pittsburg, Delphi, Monticello, Burnetts- 
ville, Acton, Aurora, Lawrenceburg, Lebanon, 
Frankfort, some even from outside the state. Cast 
down, but not destroyed, these proofs of friend- 
ship were the silver lining to the dark cloud roll- 
ing over me. 

Then a community in the western part of 



BITTER DAYS— WAR ANIMOSITIES. 71 

Johnson County, Indiana, organized a grove meet- 
ing for two days' continuance. This movement 
was led by Judge Harding, a prominent Presbyter- 
ian, and people of all religious beliefs, and people 
who had no religious convictions, joined in the 
movement. Multitudes came from every part of 
the adjacent country. I preached six sermons, the 
aim of each being to honor the Book by exalting 
its holy teachings. The people were orderly, at- 
tentive, and happy, and they were days of grate- 
ful worship. At the close of the meeting, Sun- 
day night, Judge Harding handed me one hundred 
dollars. 

At another time I preached in the front yard 
of a friend, who was not a member of any church, 
but a believer in justice and fair dealing. The 
yard was full of people, they sat on chairs, on the 
blue grass, leaned on the fences, many stood, and 
the spirit of worship was with them. At the 
close of the sermon, the owner said : "Our broth- 
er has preached the truth, nothing but the truth. 
Let us all help him." He proceeded to gather in 
their offerings, and it was a generous response. 
I think I never received more for preaching a sin- 
gle sermon than came in to me that afternoon. 

That same year, in accord with a previous ar- 



72 



ISAAC NEWTON CLARK. 



rangement, I preached the opening sermon to the 
annual meeting of the Indianapolis association, in 
session with the Crooked Creek church. My text 
was: "Upon this rock I will build my church, and 
the gates of hell shall not prevail against it." My 
enthusiasm for forty minutes was expended upon 
the immutability of the foundation of a Bible 
church. Some people were disappointed; they 
wanted what they called a patriotic sermon. I 
thought I was pre-eminently loyal to the King s 
cause, in establishing His reign in the earth. But 
good Dr. Henry Day, pastor of the First Church 
of Indianapolis, said to me : "Brother, you gave us 
a good, strong sermon, but it had no war in it." 

While General Morgan was making his fam- 
ous raid across Southern Indiana, the excitement 
was intense. I had an engagement for a special 
service in Wolf Creek Baptist church in Boone 
County. When I reached the place, Saturday 
evening, Deacon Denny told me the report was in 
circulation that the Home Guards were to arrest 
me that night, or the next day at the church. That 
was stimulating rumor, one eye did most of the 
sleeping that night; Deacon Denny pillowed his 
venerable head on his six shooter, for the Home 



BITTER DAYS— WAR ANIMOSITIES. 73 

Guards were yelling and carousing about us the 
whole night. 

However, I was unmolested and was quite 
serene the next morning, though I did not know 
what desperate thing might happen at the church, 
which I found filled to the doors, and many stand- 
ing in the aisles and about the door unable to get 
in. I discovered several men in the church yard 
with war accoutrements on and their muskets 
in their hands. They were Home Guards, there to 
keep the preacher straight, and intimidate dis- 
loyalty in that congregation of Baptist worship- 
ers. I preached as warmly and spiritually as T 
knew how, the Holy Spirit helping me. John 
3:14 was foremost: "As Moses lifted up the ser- 
pent in the wilderness, even so must the Son of 
Man be lifted up, that whosoever believeth in 
Him, might not perish, but have eternal life/' I 
tried to stand as nearly under the cross as I could, 
and I never had more liberty in speaking, and I 
never spoke to a more attentive audience. The 
men outside came to the doors to listen, the war- 
riors crowded to the windows to hear. While the 
people sang the last hymn, an old man, not a 
church member, stepped up to me and said : "An 



74 ISAAC NEWTON CLARK. 

effort may be made as you pass out to arrest you. 
Do not fear. There are a hundred pistols in this 
audience and the first man who lays a hand on 
you to interfere with your liberty will be shot 
down. A carriage will be at the door, pass out and 
step into it. You shall not be harmed." I was 
not frightened or disturbed, and left quietly. 

One day I was surprised to receive a letter 
from a man, who had heard me preach a sermon 
some years before, but whom I did not know. The 
letter said: "Our church is divided and pastor- 
less; can't you come and spend a Sunday with 
us?" I was suffering to preach, and I said yes, 
though I knew nothing of conditions. I was on 
time at the place. The good brother said to me: 
"Some of our members will not hear you preach. 
They have heard things and are prejudiced, but 
you will have hearers." Sunday morning, to my 
surprise, the meeting house was well filled, people 
having come even five and ten miles to the serv- 
ice. My theme for the morning was the glorious 
characteristics of the Gospel. The evening serv- 
ice was also well attended, and Monday morning 
the old man said to me : " We thank you for com- 
ing. Come again in two weeks, and here is some- 



BITTER DAYS— WAR ANIMOSITIES. 75 

thing for you, to help you along." He handed 
me twenty dollars. I went home with a happy 
heart. It was good to preach the blessed old Gos- 
pel, without a vindictive word or a sectional al- 
lusion. 

A little later, another, a large church, which 
had been pastorless for some months, called me 
to its pulpit. There was dissension in this church, 
for reports had gone to some of the members that 
I was not entirely loyal to the government. So the 
call was not unanimous, but two prominent men 
of the church went in a quiet way to Greenwood 
and Southport, from whence these adverse stories 
came, and made careful investigation. They found 
nothing and returned with flattering reports. 
From that time on there was harmony and great 
prosperity, congregations increased, many con- 
verts were baptized and a splendid meeting house 
was built. The victory was won. Loyalty to God 
and his truth had brought me through this cause- 
less, unreasonable and unjust persecution. 



CHAPTER VII. 

AT WORK ONCE MORE — INDIANA AND OHIO. 

Concluding my work with the State Conven- 
tion, I accepted the pastorates of the Mt. Pleasant 
and Hurricane churches. Here was large oppor- 
tunity for constructive work. The spiritual 
apathy, resultant from the war, called for special 
aggressive effort, that religion might obtain prop- 
er attention again. Mt. Pleasant, however, was 
the most inviting and hopeful field, a country 
church with a membership of nearly two hundred, 
many of them wealthy farmers. I think of one 
who had nine hundred acres of splendid valley 
land, another with five hundred; another, four 
hundred; many who had from one hundred and 
sixty to three hundred and forty acres of good 
Indiana land. The church had never had more 
than half-time service and had never paid its 
pastor more than $250.00 a year, and the meeting 
house was old, quite out of repair, and totally in- 
adequate to accommodate the people who attended. 

At the very beginning, there were encourag- 
ing tokens of coming blessing. Many old men 
seemed to take on new interest and zeal ; I can re- 



AT WORK ONCE MORE— INDIANA AND OHIO. 77 

call, vividly, the stirring words of John Willard, 
William Needham, John Owens, Nelson Conover, 
William Reese, Noah Needham, J. W. Beard, J. 
W. Webb, E. Tucker, Boone Bryan and others. I 
soon found myself intrenched in the confidence of 
my people. It was never so easy to preach, and 
conditions were never more suggestive of topics. 
In the first winter the Lord gave us a great re- 
freshing, more than fifty persons coming into the 
church. The summer following we touched the 
baptismal water nearly every month. In the sec- 
ond winter, we had a glorious harvest. I think I 
baptized eighty-six during the winter and spring 
months; twenty-eight were baptized in Sugar 
Creek in seventeen minutes, by Deacon Needham's 
watch. It was an orderly baptism, no undue haste ; 
when the baptism was finished, Deacon Needham 
announced to a thousand people : "Seventeen min- 
utes, at the rate of over one hundred an hour ; our 
young pastor could have baptized one-half of the 
three thousand himself in one day." 

I had four preaching stations in the adjacent 
neighborhoods, one of these in an especially grow- 
ing, thrifty community. A Baptist man, by the 
name of Beard, gave an acre of ground for a meet- 



78 



ISAAC N1TWT0N CLARK. 



ing house, to the Protestant Methodists, with the 
provision in the deed that the Baptists might use 
it when not occupied by the Methodists. For sev- 
eral months I had preached here every third Sun- 
day afternoon. It happened that more people 
came to the Baptist meetings than to the Metho- 
dist, so, at length, having learned that the house 
would not be occupied, I announced a meeting of 
one week's continuance, beginning at a definite 
date. When the time came, I found the preacher 
in charge, on hand, having changed his appoint- 
ment to absorb mine, a diplomatic move, if not 
a courteous one. His excuse was: "This is our 
house, and it is more convenient to me to be here 
now than at another time." Not a word of this 
change had been mentioned to me or to any of our 
people before, but when I discovered the animus 
of the proceeding, I said to the people: "I will 
retire and hold a meeting at another time." But 
my friends would not have it that way. Several 
outsiders, leading men in the community, said to 
the Methodist preacher that it was wrong and 
besought him to give way, and let me go on with 
my meeting, but he would not listen. 

They then proposed a joint meeting, and to 



AT WjORK ONCE MORE— INDIANA AND OHIO. 79 

this he finally assented. Although not feeling as 
harmoniously inclined as on some other occasions, 
I fell in and preached that afternoon. He preached 
that night and we agreed then upon an equal di- 
vision of pulpit work: that no personal effort 
should be made to influence anybody ; that at the 
close of the meeting, opportunity should be given 
for persons to unite with either church. The 
people came to the services in great numbers, 
morning and evening the place was full, and lively 
interest was taken in the preaching of the Word. 
Friday night came, opportunity was given for en- 
listments; the Protestant Methodist preacher 
stood at one end of the platform, the Baptist fel- 
low at the other. 

The Protestant Methodist man was a loud 
singer, so both standing, he said: "Now, while 
we sing, come!" and struck up "Am I a soldier of 
the Cross, a follower of the Lamb?" and before 
the first stanza was finished, two young ladies 
had gone to his side. He was exultingly happy, I 
was happy and waiting. The singing went on, the 
second verse, then the third, and when the peo- 
ple came to that "Sure I must fight if I would 
reign, Increase my courage Lord," there began to 



80 ISAAC NEWTON CLARK. 

be a significant movement. In the next ten min- 
utes, twenty-two persons, many of them husbands 
and wives, were at my end of the stand. The em- 
phasis in the singing shifted, for the enlistment 
tally stood two to twenty-two. I announced that 
two weeks from the Sunday following, I would be 
there and preach and baptize those who should be 
ready, urging all to be ready if convenient. The 
Protestant Methodist minister announced that he 
would preach the Sunday following our joint meet- 
ing. 

At my appointed time, I was there, the people 
were there, the candidates for baptism were there, 
but the church doors were locked and bolted, the 
windows were nailed down. It was a chilly Feb- 
ruary day, and the people were shivering outside, 
but hot inside. A dozen and more young men 
came to me and offered to open that house, if I 
would say the word. Thinking a moment, I said : 
"No, let us do no violence. This will recoil upon 
the heads of those who did it. If the people can 
endure the chill of the weather for a few minutes, 
I can preach a little sermon from my buggy, then 
we can go to the river and baptize." They said : 
"We can and we will." I preached ; the text was 



AT WORK ONCE MORE— INDIANA AND OHIO. 81 

short: "Fight the good fight of faith," the ser- 
mon was short, but it had emphasis and ginger, for 
the tension was on and the swordsman in battle 
armor. We went to the water and had a splendid 
baptism ; there was real heroism shown there that 
day. That transaction spelt the death knell to 
Protestant Methodism in that community, for the 
population was very nearly unanimously turned 
against them from that day. 

Following this pastorate, I became the pastor 
of the First Baptist church of Franklin, Ind. The 
importance of this field gave me a keener and live- 
lier sense of responsibility. I was conscious of my 
unpreparedness and lack of experience to measure 
up to its pressing demands. There were some 
peculiar providential circumstances which had to 
do with this call and settlement. The war had 
seriously affected both Franklin College and the 
church. The fact was, the former was little more 
than a private academy, under the management 
of Professor Hill, and the church was in debt, dis- 
couraged and pastorless. Four prominent citi- 
zens of the town, not Baptists, not members of any 
church, proposed to the church to invite me to 
its pastorate, promising at the same time to be 



82 



ISAAC NEWTON CLARK. 



responsible for one-half of the salary. The church 
accepted this proposition; the call was extended 
at a salary of one thousand dollars, and the work 
began. 

At first the outlook was hazy, the skies 
murky, but with hopeful heart, the work, once 
started, moved timidly on. At the end of each 
quarter, these four men handed me one hundred 
and twenty-five dollars. They were D. G. Vawter, 
merchant; W. H. Barnett, county auditor; W. S. 
Ragsdale, county treasurer, and John W. Wil- 
son, county clerk. These men not only paid their 
money, but both they and their families came 
to church services regularly, and invited other un- 
churched people to come also. They were anxious 
to build up the congregation, and the audiences 
did grow rapidly. The prospect became more 
luminous, and this was the turning point in the 
annals of that old historic Baptist church. 

That winter, God gave us an upbuilding, con- 
structive revival, when more than fifty members 
were added to the company of believers. Among 
these, Mrs. Ragsdale, Mrs. J. W. Wilson, Miss 
Mollie Barnett and Miss Lillian Vawter, one out 
of each of the families, who were making up the 



AT WORK ONCE MORE— INDIANA AND OHIO. 83 

pastor's support. Lillian Vawter, whose mother 
was dead, was the youngest disciple I ever bap- 
tized, just out of her seventh year; a number of 
persons had been baptized, when, last of all, this 
beautiful, sprightly little girl came up from her 
pew, splendidly equipped by her Presbyterian 
aunt. As she stood at the end of the baptistry 
on the platform, I said: "Out of the mouth of 
babes, the Lord hath perfected praise," then took 
her in my arms and laid her down gently in the 
water, lifted her out, placed her again on the 
platform and wiped her face dry, while the little 
thing stood smiling at the people. I do not think 
there was a tearless eye in that great audience. 
I never saw such a baptismal scene. Lillian grew 
into womanhood, married a young Christian law- 
yer, and was one of the most highly respected and 
devoted Christian women in all that community. 
She came to a premature death, a victim of tuber- 
culosis. 

In former pastorates, I had preached several 
series of sermons, one on the miracles of our Lord, 
one on the scriptural types, another on famous 
Bible men, but I decided to spend the Sunday 
evenings in the study of the doctrines of our 



84 ISAAC NEWTON CLARK. 

churches, the general topic being, "What do the 
Baptists stand for?" The attendance on these 
special services increased so quickly that extra 
seatings were demanded. Many people of other 
communions came, the sermons became the topics 
of conversation in the stores, shops' and homes. 
A common remark was : "I did not know the Bap- 
tists believed that; I really did not know what 
the Baptists did believe." It was often said : "Go 
to the Baptist church tonight if you want to know 
what the Baptists believe and stand for." After 
the sermon on the security of believers in Christ, 
an old man, a Baptist, said to me : "Do the Bap- 
tists believe that?" I said: "Yes, they do." And 
he replied: "I think better of them than ever. 
That honors the work on Calvary, it means that 
Jesus saves." 

Following the sermon on Regeneration, ia 
lady, a member of another congregation, sent for 
me to come and see her. I called, not knowing 
what she wanted, and her first remark was: 
"Husband and I heard your sermon last night on 
Regeneration. If you preached the truth, I have 
never been regenerated. I have been immersed 
and have been a member of the church (not the 



AT WORK ONCE MORE— INDIANA AND OHIO. 85 

Baptist) for twelve years, but if that is regen- 
eration, I know nothing of it. I am alarmed; 
what shall I do?" I said: "I preached the truth, 
I think." She replied : "I do not say you did not ; 
I only say if that is the truth, I have not been 
regenerated, and am not a Christian. What shall 
I do?" I said: "Shall we examine the Scrip- 
tures together, if we may ascertain what regener- 
ation is?" "That is what I want," she answered, 
and for three solid hours, with aid of Concordance, 
we studied God's message intently. We were on 
a vital errand. To know the nature, the necessity, 
the evidence of regeneration, was the object of our 
inquiry. This completed, she said, with pathetic 
emphasis : "I am not a Christian." The Sunday 
night following, I baptized her. It was Mrs. W. 
S. Ragsdale, the wife of the county treasurer. 

The Presbyterian pastor, Mr. Morey, said co 
me, one Monday morning, after I had spoken on 
the construction and mission of a Bible church 
the night before: "You are on the right line in 
this series of sermons you are preaching. You are 
doing more to establish the Baptist church in this 
community than has been done for years. The 
mass of the people don't know what any of our 






86 ISAAC NEWTON CLARK. 

churches stand for. The pastor cannot do bet- 
ter than to build the intellectual and heart con- 
fidence of his people, about the doctrine of his 
church, it being understood that a Bible church 
holds Bible doctrines." 

In 1868, Indiana furnished the First Baptist 
church of Urbana, 0., with a pastor. An old 
field, a beautiful, conservative city; the Baptists 
owned and occupied "the little brown church 
'round the corner," and were a solid, thinking, 
spiritually disposed membership. 

Of all the religionists of the city, the Metho- 
dists were the biggest, the Presbyterians the more 
polished, the Episcopalians the more ritualistic, 
the sanctified, sinless Holy Rollers the noisiest, 
the Baptists the plainest and most spiritual. They 
had a good place for the preacher to live in, and 
kept something always in his larder for him to live 
on. The pastor could not become financially rich, 
but always had something. There was a steady 
stimulating growth in both the Sunday School and 
congregation, there could be no rapid advance 
since the city was not growing much, and the 
church lines ran into almost every family. There 



AT WORK ONCE MORE— INDIANA AND OHIO. 87 

were, however, numbers of conversions and addi- 
tions to the church. 

It was here, in the happiest moments of a 
pleasant pastorate, that tuberculosis assaulted my 
home in an attack upon my beloved wife. It was 
on Sunday morning. I had gotten up and dressed, 
kindled a fire in the kitchen, as was my morning 
habit, when suddenly I heard an unusual sound, 
and going quickly to the bedchamber, found Mrs. 
Clark sitting up, spitting blood, her mouth filling 
as fast as she could expel it. At length, she said : 
"Father, I am bleeding; this is the beginning of 
the end." In the thirty minutes following, she ex- 
pectorated very nearly a pint of blood, and this 
was followed by intense pain and soreness. Her 
words seemed to be prophetic ; that was the begin- 
ning of a fatal ending. Medicines, eminent phy- 
sicians, change of climates, special treatment, 
every possible available means was employed, but 
the remorseless decay could not be arrested. She 
spent the winter immediately following the at- 
tack in Fort Scott, Kas., while I continued my 
work in Urbana. In the spring, feeling somewhat 
improved, she returned to Urbana, but in a few 



88 ISAAC NEWTON CLARK. 

months another hemorrhage came. This impelled 
my resignation and removal to another state. 

I was immediately invited to supply the 
churches in Iola and Humboldt, Kas., made va- 
cant by the resignation of the Rev. M. D. Gage, 
and I continued in this field until the year fol- 
lowing, when the First Baptist Church in Ottawa 
gave me a call to its pastorate, which was accepted 
and service continued, until Mrs. Clark's death, 
which occurred in January, 1875. Two things 
of some moment, if no more, came during this 
pastorate. The old, unshapely, narrow bottomed, 
back-breaking pews, were displaced by others more 
modern, artistic and comfortable. Thus if the ser- 
mon grew long or withered into dryness, at least 
the people might have restful napping. 

Secona, the one-man custom of consuming 
the large part of the time in the mid-week prayer 
meeting was corrected. It was done after this 
fashion: The plan of announcing the topic for 
prayer and consideration the Sunday preceding 
was adopted; following this announcement, one 
Monday the pastor took twenty-five postal cards, 
wrote the topic for that week on them, addressed 
these cards to as many members of the church, 



AT WORK ONCE MORE— INDIANA AND OHIO. 89 

who were quiet in these meetings, and each was 
especially requested to use the first unoccupied 
moment to speak or pray. The revolution came. 
The meeting was opened. At the first pause, half 
a dozen people were on their feet, ready to have 
part, and for forty-five minutes that measure of 
promptness continued. That was a live, wide- 
awake social service. One brother was amazed, 
and said to the pastor : "Brother, what has brok- 
en loose here?" I said: "The people are coming 
to believe that the prayer meeting is theirs, and 
they have done the breaking loose." 

In October, 1875, the First Baptist Church of 
Portsmouth, 0., invited me to its pulpit, a city of 
fifteen thousand, county seat of Scioto County, a 
church well housed and splendidly located, never 
very strong or commanding socially or financial- 
ly. Strange as it may be, an ecclesiastical row, 
in which the former pastor was entangled, had 
impaired the social standing and influence of the 
church. Some had stoutly asserted their personal 
sovereignty and had gone into isolated independ- 
ence. It is possible that a Baptist brotherhood 
may do some unbrotherly things, regenerate men 
may have the demeanor of impenitent rascals. 

The task of uniting scattered forces and re- 



90 ISAAC NEWTON CLARK. 

covering lost ground was most laborious. Diver- 
gencies of opinion and chaotic conditions were con- 
fronted. Slowly apathy gave place to awakening 
and interest, indifference was supplanted by en- 
thusiasm, alienated members came back, excluded 
members were restored, outstanding letter-hold- 
ing Baptists came in; in short, all lines of Chris- 
tian activity were strengthened and revived. In 
the first year's service, there were about sixty 
persons added to the church, the larger number 
of them by baptism. In the second year of thi§ 
pastorate, it was my privilege to preach the first 
sermon ever delivered by a missionary Baptist 
minister in the town of Wheelersburg, eight miles 
above Portsmouth on the Ohio River. Having 
spoken several times following this, the people re- 
quested a meeting of some days' continuance, so 
in the early spring, I spent a week with them, 
preaching every night, visiting the people in their 
homes in the day. 

On the last evening of the meeting, at the 
request of Major Malone, a member of the church 
in Portsmouth, who lived near the village, I said : 
"Are there persons here who would like to unite 
with the Baptist church, or organize a Baptist 



AT WORK ONCE MORE— INDIANA AND OHIO. 91 

church here? If so, will they tarry a little after 
the conclusion of this service?" To our surprise, 
thirty-seven people stayed, among them four 
Methodists. After prayerful consideration, it was 
decided to organize a church, and plans were made 
to effect it. A month later, the organization was 
completed, recognition services were held, and the 
next day a citizen, a business man of the town, 
gave us a beautiful corner lot on which to build 
a meeting house. Money was secured, a chapel, 
costing twenty-six hundred dollars, was erected 
and paid for. The last sermon I preached in Ohio 
was the dedicatory sermon to this chapel. Im- 
mediately following this, we went down to the 
Ohio River, where I baptized a splendid convert, 
a young lady, the organist in our new church. It 
was a splendid closing to my Ohio ministry. It 
pays to be constructively aggressive, to be ever 
vigilant in looking out for openings to establish 
substantial Kingdom work. 

In 1867, while preaching at Second Mt. Pleas- 
ant, 1 performed the ceremony that united i:i 
marriage Nelson S. Conover, a prominent mem- 
ber of my church, and Miss Elizabeth Carson, 
daughter of a Presbyterian farmer and pioneer of 



92 



ISAAC NEWTON CLARK. 



Shelby County. During the years of my work 
in that community, I was many times a guest in 
this family, until 1873, when I was called upon 
to preach the funeral service of this man, who 
had been one of my strong supporters and zealous 
friends. 

After the death of my first wife, I again met 
and renewed an old friendship with Mrs. Conover, 
and in November, 1875, the friendship culminated 
in our marriage. Thus, it may be said, and we 
have many times laughed over it, that I married 
my wife twice. I also had the privilege of baptiz- 
ing her into the Baptist church, a few weeks after 
our marriage. 



CHAPTER IX. 

INDIANAPOLIS AND THE CONVENTION. 

Now, it was back to Indiana, in response to 
the call of the South Street Church in the city of 
Indianapolis. Of this church and its field I had 
little knowledge; the call had come to me wholly 
without my knowledge or seeking. Both Mrs. 
Clark and myself, being Indiana born, had some 
inherent desire to live and labor in the state of our 
nativity. 

October, 1878, found me in Indianapolis, 
ready for the new work. 

The South Street Church is well located, at 
the corner of South and Noble streets, at the open- 
ing of Fletcher Avenue. At this date it was the 
only Baptist church or mission in what was known 
as the South Side. This includes all of the city 
south of the great thoroughfare, Washington 
Street, which runs east and west, the entire length 
of the city, eight miles or more. Then there were 
seventy-five or eighty thousand people in that 
part of the city; now there are 120,000 or more. 
The chapel was a long, narrow, one-story, single- 



94 ISAAC NEWTON CLARK. 

room building, constructed of brick, with stone 
trimmings. 

At that time there seemed to be an inexcus- 
able hesitation and conservatism about the Bap- 
tists of the city ; only one small, struggling church 
among seventy-five thousand people was not a 
flattering interpretation of Baptist activity. The 
membership of the church was something more 
than one hundred, the overplus was for the most 
part unprofitable, indefinable and in some in- 
stances unfindable annexes. They were, for the 
most part, laboring people; the wealth of the 
church was not in money or real estate; it was 
in soul properties. For a time, they had been with- 
out pastoral leadership, and they now proposed to 
give the pastor twelve hundred dollars annually, 
and give him the liberty to select and to pay for 
the place in which he might live. 

I was in the mid-week prayer meeting pre- 
ceding my opening Sunday service; there were 
fourteen persons present, two or three of them 
children; there were just three men besides the 
new pastor. The following Sunday I preached 
from the text: "What wilt thou have me to do?" 
I talked about my errand to that field to eighty 



INDIANAPOLIS AND THE CONVENTION. 95 

ears present, hung on forty heads; just how many 
of these hearing ears, I did not know. There was 
a very perceptible and stimulating increase in the 
evening. The unsightly, unattractive place of 
meeting had no winning effect upon non-church 
going people — only those who were moved by posi- 
tive religious conviction attended. However, over 
against all hindrance we made some measure of 
progress in that opening year ; the Sunday School 
and church attendance more than doubled, and 
there were also several additions by baptism. 

My first impression upon seeing the meeting 
place was that little constructive progress could be 
made, apart from a new and more modern church 
building, something at least as fascinating in ap- 
pearance as the average homes of the people. Very 
soon and often I touched this matter in the pul- 
pit ; it gave fragrance to nearly every sermon, but 
I soon discovered that the mind of the church 
was not a unit in this matter. Finally, I was in- 
formed that I need not urge the project of a new 
house, that Baptist people, if they were genuine 
Baptists, could worship in that house and be con- 
tent to do so. That prompted me to say: 'That 
it was not Baptists, chiefly, that we wanted, but 



96 ISAAC NEWTON CLARK. 

rather the people that were not anything but sin- 
ners, that we might win them into the Kingdom 
and make Baptists of them." After several 
months of agitation of the church building prob- 
lem, the matter came to a final vote. The single 
question was, "Shall the church undertake to build 
a meeting house?" There was a large and repre- 
sentative attendance, with the vote a standing 
one. A sturdy, solid deacon sat with his wife and 
family ; we were all in fear of him. In the vote all 
the members stood up in favor of the undertaking, 
except this one deacon. The opposite vote being 
taken, this heroic man stood, but glancing about, 
saw that he stood alone. He said in pathetic tones : 
"I seem to be alone, but I am a Baptist, and be- 
lieve in the majority ruling. Before I sit down 
I will say that I will start my subscription tonight 
with two hundred dollars." The victory was won. 

Subscriptions were secured; plans were 
drawn and adopted, and the building was com- 
menced. It went on splendidly, until the square 
of the structure was reached, when our available 
means was exhausted. We decided to cover the 
walls, suspend work and gather funds during the 
winter to finish the building in the early spring. 

But there are surprises coming, often, to those 



INDIANAPOLIS AND THE CONVENTION. 97 

who are struggling to do the right thing. Walk- 
ing down the street on Saturday morning, I met 
Dr. H. C. Mabie, then pastor of the First Bap- 
tist Church. "How are you getting on with your 
building?" he inquired. I told him our condition 
and difficulty, and what we had decided to do. 
He quickly replied: "Do not do that; your walls 
will injure. Come to my church tomorrow morn- 
ing ; you shall have the pulpit. We will help you. 
Preach or tell about your building struggle." I 
said : "Thank you ; I will be there." I was super- 
intendent of our Sunday School. At its close, I 
said to the deacons : "You must fill the preaching 
hour, I cannot be here." 

I was in the First Church, Dr. Mabie by my 
side, at service time. A great congregation was 
before me, none of whom, save Mabie, knew I 
was to be there. My text was: "Beginning at 
Jerusalem," and I talked about beginnings — of na- 
tions — republics — Kingdom of God — churches, 
closing with a short sketch of the beginning of 
the South Street Baptist Church, its present stand- 
ing and pressing need. Dr. Mabie made some sug- 
gestions, the ushers passed out my little pledge 
cards, after a little gathered them in, and wrapped 



98 ISAAC NEWTON CLARK. 

them up in paper uncounted and passed them to 
me. My good wife had remained at home; the 
dinner disposed of, she said: "Let us see what 
you have done." The first card said $300.00; the 
second, $200.00; another, $150.00; five or six said 
$100.00 each; several, fifty each, among them, Dr. 
Mabie's. There were many smaller pledges and 
ninety dollars in cash, the total footing was $2,- 
300.00. I preached that night in my own church, 
told them where I had been in the morning, and 
what the people of the First Church had done for 
us. The people of the South Street Church 
clapped hands and sang the doxology. Monday 
morning our contractor was directed to immed- 
iately enclose the building, and the work from 
then went steadily on until the place was com- 
pleted and dedicated. The Sunday School of the 
First Church put into the auditorium the two 
large cathedral glass windows, at a cost of three 
hundred dollars, and several friends put in other 
smaller windows. 

Then another surprise came. We had one 
member, the wealthiest one of the flock, who would 
not promise a dollar. We had decided never to 
ask him again. When the workmen were getting 



INDIANAPOLIS AND THE CONVENTION. 99 

ready to put the pews in place, he met some of the 
ladies and inquired if they were going to carpet the 
floor before the pews were placed. They said, 
only the platform and aisles ; we can do no more. 
He went to the carpet store and ordered the man 
to cover the entire floor, with a good, durable car- 
pet, and send the bill to him. God helps those who 
try to do that which ought to be done. The work 
advanced more rapidly after the new sanctuary 
was opened. Mrs. Clark and myself put into that 
meeting house five hundred dollars in cash, be- 
sides which I gave four months of the most vig- 
orous part of my life to the securing of this place 
of worship. 

This was the most trying and laborious chap- 
ter in all my ministerial and pastoral experience. 
I had put hand and money to the construction of 
eight meeting houses before, but none of them 
comparable to this. To preserve sweetness and 
freshness in the pulpit, and keep constructive and 
harmonious movements going outside was we'll 
nigh an exhausting task. During this pastorate, 
however, there were many refreshings from the 
presence of the Lord. In one of these, twenty- 
seven new members were baptized; in another, 
fifty-five. The last year forty-four, largely from 



100 ISAAC NEWTON CLARK. 

the Sunday School, were baptized. This was the 
final chapter in my pastoral history. 

In 1882, the Indiana Baptist State Convention 
met in annual session in Fort Wayne. The Rev. 
Dr. Elgin, who had been the superintendent and 
financial secretary, had decided to retire, and the 
question of his successor was disturbing the broth- 
erhood quite a little. On the way to the conven- 
tion, the Rev. Albert Ogle came to me and asked 
me if I would accept the position, if it were of- 
fered to me. I answered : "I could not. Please 
do not think of it and do not mention it." I 
thought that was the end of it, as nothing more 
was said to me about it on the way to the conven- 
tion or at the convention. 

At the convention, however, the committee 
on nominations put my name before the conven- 
tion as Dr. Elgin's successor, but before a vote 
could be taken, I entered my protest, saying that 
I was happy in my pastorate and could not accept. 
Dr. Dobbs, who was presiding over the conven- 
tion, said reprovingly: "Brother Clark, a good 
Baptist will obey the voice of his brethren." I 
answered: "Not unless it is the voice of God." 
The vote was recorded; unanimously elected, I 
said over and over: "I cannot accept. While I 



INDIANAPOLIS AND THE CONVENTION. 101 

appreciate the confidence of my brethren, I can- 
not leave my church." The church had most 
heartily entered its protest before my return, and 
when I came back, at my first meeting, I said: 
"I will remain with you," and informed the execu- 
tive committee of the convention of my decision. 
A few days later, a committee from the Board 
came to me and gave me this statement: "On 
the way to Fort Wayne, they had privately asked 
every messenger on the train who should be Dr. 
Elgin's successor, and every one, without a single 
exception, and without any solicitation, mentioned 
your name, and there were nearly two hundred 
of them." They said: "The mind of the con- 
vention and the denomination is on you. This is 
providential; you must not absolutely decline." 
This was a new revelation to me and prompted me 
to reconsider the whole matter. I finally in- 
formed the church of these facts, and announced 
my willingness to be led of Providence. The 
church said in all candor: "Do what you think 
God would have you do." I then closed my work 
with the church and entered the service of the con- 
vention for the second time. 

The state campaign was one of intense activ- 
ity, unstinted effort was made and unreserved 



102 ISAAC NEWTON CLARK. 

energy was expended to bring success. Thousands 
of miles were traveled ; every conceivable method 
of getting anywhere was utilized; Walker's Line 
was always open and available, and used more than 
a little. Associations, conventions, dedications, 
picnics, wherever it seemed possible to project In- 
diana state missions, was sought; indeed, the 
greatness of the state as a mission field suddenly 
assumed immense proportions in at least one 
man's mind. The conviction possessed me that 
every considerable community ought to be sweet- 
ened and fertilized by the presence and influence 
of a Baptist church. The twenty-seven county 
seat towns, not thus furnished, the several whole 
counties not thus equipped, these, with the many 
untouched sections in every county, were a con- 
stant pressure and appeal; in labors much; in 
weariness oft ; in blues never. A missionary who 
would bring things to pass has no time to dally 
with blues, or nurse discouragements. The years 
of work went happily on, old stations were re- 
enforced, new situations were established, not- 
ably Marion, Jasper, Boonville, Anderson, etc., 
and began to feel the touch and influence of Bap- 
tist evangelism. The missionaries were compen- 
sated promptly at the end of each quarter, the 
convention work was gaining in force, influence 
and finances. 



CHAPTER X. 

THE FIELDS BEYOND — THE MISSIONARY UNION. 

Coming in from the field, after fifteen days 
of hard work, in the latter half of June, 1885, my 
good wife said: "There is a letter on your desk 
for you, from Boston. Who are you corresponding 
with in Boston ?" I said: "With no one. I do 
not know anybody in Boston." I was anxious to 
see the inside of that envelope, to know something 
of its contents. I discovered that it came from 
the office of the American Baptist Missionary 
Union, and was an official statement of the ac- 
tion of the executive committee in organizing 
a new secretarial district in the West, includ- 
ing the states of Missouri, Kansas, Nebraska and 
Colorado; also an announcement of my appoint- 
ment to its supervision, with a commission author- 
izing me to perform certain functions, fixing the 
amount of salary, and suggesting as possible head- 
quarters, Kansas City, Topeka, or Denver. It 
closed with an earnest request that I give the 
Union a favorable answer, and that I enter upon 
the duties of the appointment at the earliest mo- 
ment possible. This was the first intimation I 



104 ISAAC NEWTON CLARK. 

had that anybody, anywhere, had anything such as 
this in mind. To say that I was both puzzled and 
amazed, but feebly suggests my state of mind; 
puzzled to know the origin of the movement, as- 
tonished that the appointment was made without 
my knowledge, consent, or even so much as an 
intimation of its possibility. 

My curiosity was in a measure satisfied after- 
wards when I learned that the general secretary 
had written to Dr. Stimson, informing him of the 
intention to make a new district in the West, and 
asking him for the name of a wide-awake, West- 
ern man whom they might select to supervise 
it. He and Dr. H. L. Stetson and Dr. A. Wash- 
burn, all suggested my name. Immediately, this 
great problem confronted me. Why should I sur- 
render the state work to accept this? Are there 
reasons to justify such a change? If so, what are 
they? The following suggestions came to me in 
the effort to decide : 

First, it will remove the pressure of personal 
responsibility to meet the salaries of the mission- 
aries at the end of each quarter. 

Second, it will give more time for the secur- 
ing of missionary information. 






THE FIELDS BEYOND— THE MISSIONARY UNION. 105 

Third, it gives a larger field for tillage and a 
greater variety of work. 

Fourth, it will give a larger and more prac- 
tical conception of the great intent of Christianity. 

Fifth, it gives promise of more permanent 
work. 

Accepting the appointment, I left Indianapo- 
lis, August first, for my new field; stopped in 
St. Louis, at the Southern, and after a good break- 
fast, I started out to Dr. S. W. Marston of the 
American Baptist Publication Society, a royal 
brotherly spirit, who, in loving, generous fashion, 
gave me much information concerning Missouri, 
its condition, divisions and many excellent prac- 
tical suggestions as to how to proceed. Knowing 
that in Missouri I must be shown, he proceeded 
to show me. I knew that Sterling Price and Gen- 
eral Lyon had fought ensanguined battles on Mis- 
souri soil. I had heard of Lone Jack, Spring 
River and Carthage, and I knew that both Rich- 
mond and Washington had ardent supporters 
among Missouri Baptists. I knew that although 
artillery was parked, and swords were in scab- 
bards, there was a lingering prejudice and bellig- 
erency that made a chilly atmosphere in some 



106 ISAAC NEWTON CLARK. 

places. I was not wholly impressionless concern- 
ing the possibility that any representative of any 
society with headquarters in New England, or 
on the north side of the Ohio River, might strike 
a frosty climate in some parts of the new district. 
I began at once to subject myself to rigid disci- 
pline, that I might meet whatever came and yet 
preserve sweetness of temper and maintain Chris- 
tian demeanor. 

On the way from St. Louis to Kansas City, I 
stopped off at Kirksville, where a district asso- 
ciation was in session. The pastor, Brother Kelt- 
ner, met me and said: "Are you a preacher?" 
I said: "Yes; do I look like one?" "Yes; not 
strikingly so, however." I told him who I was 
and what I represented. He introduced me to the 
moderator, who a little later presented me to the 
association and asked me to speak. I occupied 
fifteen minutes; about five of them were con- 
sumed in brushing away the timidity, and told the 
people who I was, my errand, who sent me, and 
that my work would not be to antagonize any 
established line of missionary work, but simply 
and only to have some little part in the larger 
development of the missionary spirit. I thought I 






THE FIELDS BEYOND— THE MISSIONARY UNION. 107 

was fairly polite and courteous, but I had scarce- 
ly touched my seat when a large, portly man 
arose, and said, with considerable emphasis : "We 
have our missionary methods, and our established 
lines of work. We don't want anybody from any 
other society to interfere, and we think it very 
impertinent in them to come here." Was I 
squelched? Surely, but not killed. I walked out, 
but the moderator followed to the door, and said : 
"I want you to know that the brother who spoke 
after you did not represent the spirit of this as- 
sociation. We give you cordial welcome ; you have 
as much right to represent your society as he 
to speak for his, and we want to assure you of 
this." I felt better. 

On to Kansas City, where I established head- 
quarters at the Wright House, a hotel then located 
at the corner of Eleventh and Grand Avenue. I 
had baptized Mr. Wright and received him and 
his wife into membership in the First Baptist 
Church of Franklin, Ind. I met cordial greeting 
in Kansas City. Dr. Lowry, Deacon James, Breth- 
ren Shouse, Ferguson and Peake, with many 
others, gave me most kindly consideration. The 
passing autumn months were spent among the as- 



108 ISAAC NEWTON CLARK. 

sociations and conventions, and it was a great 
joy to know and have the cordial greetings of 
the people of the states in this initial touring. I 
very soon took on the parlance of missions; in- 
deed, my lips became so accustomed to saying 
Judson, Rangoon, Bassein, Ava, Oungpenla, 
Clough and Ongole, that they could scarcely move, 
apart from the flavor of these historic names. 
Calls multiplied, engagements thickened, labors 
were more abundant, the ears of the people were 
opening to hear something of missionary sketch, 
achievement and need. 

In October, I met the Kansas Baptist State 
Convention in session at Newton. As I entered 
the auditorium, I caught one face that I recog- 
nized, Rev. J. P. Ash. I sat at his side. A brother 
was on the floor, making an enthusiastic speech, 
in which he referred somewhat to the personnel 
of the former convention. He said: "We miss 
today the silvery voice of the eloquent brother, 
who has so faithfully represented the work of the 
Missionary Union. " When he had finished, Broth- 
er Ash arose, and said : "I have the pleasure to 
present to this convention Dr. Tolman's successor, 
my old friend and brother, I. N. Clark." The 



THE FIELDS BEYOND— THE MISSIONARY UNION. 109 

convention clapped hands, and saluted me with 
the Chatauqua welcome. I bowed in courteous 
recognition, and then said: "I am pleased to be 
here, to follow my illustrious predecessor, and 
while I cannot hope to be as efficient as he, I 
shall do the best I can. I have a voice, but not 
silvery ; I have neither silver in voice nor pocket, 
but I shall be looking out for silver; it takes sil- 
ver and gold, men and money to make missions 
go." At another time I had opportunity to tell 
the people something about what I wanted to do, 
and make a little survey of our missionary fields 
and achievements. I guess I made the people be- 
lieve I had voice enough to make myself heard 
in most auditoriums. I spoke in forty associa- 
tional meetings and four state conventions that 
fall. I had some unique and really humorous ex- 
periences. 

At an association, the messengers were doing 
the King's business in the meeting house, while 
preaching was to be out in the grove. The com- 
mittee sent me out to preach. I was quite sure 
that the brethren would discuss missions during 
the hour, but I went and preached to about five 
hundred people. After the sermon, I introduced 



110 ISAAC NEWTON CLARK. 

the people to Burma, India and Ongole, and told 
them something of what had been done and more 
about what should be done, and then said : "Let 
us take a collection." I called for four women, 
one from Missouri, one from Virginia, one from 
Illinois and one from New England. Very soon 
these women reported, and then I called for four 
missionary hats. There were a lot of such hats 
there that morning, though probably many of 
them never covered missionary heads. The ladies 
were supplied. It was a new thing for women 
to take a public collection, certainly a novel per- 
formance in Missouri. These women went all 
through that audience; they were smiling and 
happy, and the men could not easily keep from 
smiling as they fished for the pocketbooks. The 
people were pleased and gave, and the ladies 
brought in about thirty dollars. No matter that 
they discussed missions inside, we got missionary 
money outside. 

Two years later, five secretaries were at the 
same meeting on the same day. The men, who 
were the delegates, were attending to business 
matters in the church house; preaching was go- 
ing on in another place. All these secretaries 



THE FIELDS BEYOND— THE MISSIONARY UNION. Ill 

wanted to speak to the men, take their collections 
and get away that day. Sometimes some secre- 
taries are off, just as soon as the skekels are cor- 
ralled. These all had opportunity before me, and 
all took offerings. At last my time came. Five 
appeals for money to the same audience in the 
same day, appalled me, and pulled all the snap and 
vim out of me. I was puzzled to get something 
to say. It seemed quite clear there was no money 
left, so why should I make appeal and expect 
money? I had an Indian idol with me, held it up, 
talked on Ongole, of 2,222 baptisms in one day, 
and of the twelve hundred gods that were thrown 
away that day at that baptism. Then I said I was 
a farmer's boy and for several years had milked 
the cows, and had soon discovered that the strip- 
pings was the richer part of the milk, so I pulled 
for the strippings. I said : "That is where I am 
today. The brethren who have preceded me have 
gotten all the milk, there is nothing for me but 
strippings. " 

Just then Joshua Hickman jumped up and said: 
"Brother Clark, let me pull for the strippings. " 
I said: "Thank you; do it!" With his big- 
crowned hat, he began, shouting: "I want your 



112 ISAAC NEWTON CLARK. 

strippings. Don't hold them back; let them down." 
The men were all rolling with laughter. He shook 
his hat as the strippings poured in, and at length 
came up and put it down, saying : "Brother, there 
are some strippings." The counting disclosed the 
fact that the strippings were more than all the pre- 
ceding milkings, so the farmer's boy was not left. 

On my seventy-second birthday, which was a 
Sunday, I preached in Perth, Kas., at the annual 
meeting of the Chickasha Association. At the 
close of the meeting, I said : "I am seventy-two 
years old today. I would be happy to secure an 
offering of seventy-two dollars for missions." In 
a very few minutes, seven ministers had pledged 
five dollars each, an old man quite my age, said : 
"I will give ten dollars." Just then another elder- 
ly man, Brother McCandless, stepped up to the 
pulpit and laid down twenty-five dollars. Fol- 
lowing him came a young lady, a teacher in the 
Winfield schools, and laid down a twenty-dollar 
gold piece. The giving continued, until the total 
birthday offering was one hundred and thirty- 
two dollars. 

A Sunday morning in Wellington, after my 
talk in the First Baptist Church, the young pastor 



THE FIELDS BEYOND— THE MISSIONARY UNION. 113 

said : "I want to start our offering this morning 
with ten dollars, five for my wife and five for 
myself." Another young man in the congregation 
said : "My wife and myself will give ten dollars." 
That young man is now a prominent banker in 
Kansas City. Another ten followed and another ; 
presently an old Englishman and his wife came 
arm in arm up the aisle, and said: "Here are 
three twenty-dollar gold pieces we want to give 
for the support of a native preacher in India." 
The total contribution that morning was one hun- 
dred and thirty-seven dollars. God prompted the 
givers. 

On the occasion of my first visit to Canon 
City, Col., the pastor met me at the station, and 
on the way to his home, said : "What do you want 
our people to do tomorrow for missions?" I re- 
plied : "All that you can." What else could I say? 
He asked if fifty dollars would do. That was more 
than they had ever given to foreign missions, and 
I said, yes, with real zest. That meant a forward 
movement. The morning came, the people came ; 
we had a good service, the Holy Spirit was in the 
temple. While at the dinner table in the pastor's 
home, the church treasurer announced the collec- 
tion for missions, cash and pledges, as $177.00. 



114 ISAAC NEWTON CLARK. 

The pastor had been at work with his people, 
and had preached missions. 

It was in the primitive days of Wichita, the 
days of its incipient greatness, when blocks and 
streets and avenues, parks and boulevards, were 
in brain, plat and imagination. r The Rev. J. P, 
Harper was the manager of our Baptist heritage. 
I had a Sunday with him, sleeping in his home 
and breakfasting at his generous table. On the 
way to the church, he asked, "What ought we to 
give to foreign missions today?" I said: "What 
can you give?" "Well," he replied, "will one hun- 
dred dollars satisfy you?" That sounded large to 
me, and I was glad when he said : "We will pull 
for that." I preached on the mission of the Gos- 
pel, adding some statement of our part in mis- 
sionary enterprise. The pastor then said: "We 
want one hundred dollars this morning." Immed- 
iately J. F. Shearman said : "I will give one hun- 
dred dollars to make my pastor a life member of 
the Missionary Union." Mr. Lyon followed with 
one hundred dollars, a widow lady gave one hun- 
dred, a young man and his mother, one hundred ; 
a lawyer, one hundred ; several others each pledged 
one hundred dollars ; there were several fifty and 



THE FIELDS BEYOND— THE MISSIONARY UNION. 115 

twenty-five dollar gifts; the Sunday School gave 
eighty-five dollars, the women gave one hundred 
dollars ; so that the total cash and pledges that day 
amounted to about eighteen hundred dollars. 
Some of this was long-time pledges. There was 
more money then for a short period in Wichita, 
in proportion to its population, than there ever 
has been since. That was a Red Letter day for 
the greatest city, hard by the raging Arkansas, 
and not likely has it had such another missionary 
day. 

Looking over the list of associations to be 
held that fall in Southern Missouri with the su- 
perintendent of missions, S. M. Brown, I said: 
"I am inclined to visit some of these," and men- 
tioned a certain association. He said: "It won't 
pay you; you won't get enough to pay your ex- 
pense of travel. They don't do anything for any 
cause." I said: "That is just where I ought to 
go. and that is where I am going." I started, 
reached the town about 4 p. m. and called 
on the pastor, Rev. Mr. Wright, a good 
name. He said : "You will preach for us tonight." 
I said: "Can you get anybody out?" "Sure," and 
off to the printer's. In a little while he had five 



116 ISAAC NEWTON CLARK. 

or six lively lads, scattering dodgers in the homes 
and business places of the town. At 8 p. m. the 
hall was filled. I preached, told them I was a Bap- 
tist, and was concerned to plant Baptist missions 
in all lands. The pastor then said : "We believe 
in missions, but we never have given much to 
foreign missions. Let's begin tonight." He pro- 
ceded to take up a collection; nearly everybody 
gave something, and that one collection was more 
than enough to pay all the expense of the entire 
trip. 

The next morning I went with the pastor 
to the association, about eight miles in the coun- 
try. A great company came together from the 
hills and valleys of this and other counties. I 
preached at 11 a. m. out in the open, spoke on 
missions at 3 p. m., and at the conclusion of my 
address, the moderator asked what it cost to sup- 
port a native preacher. When I answered one 
hundred dollars, he said : "Brethren, we can eas- 
ily do that in this association." In twenty minutes 
more than the hundred dollars was pledged, and 
I left the meeting with more than half the pledged 
amount in my pocket. The people were ready and 
anxious to do something to extend the Kingdom. 



THE FIELDS BEYOND— THE MISSIONARY UNION. 117 

There are more than good peaches and good Jon- 
athan apples in these Missouri flint hills; there 
are good people, good Judsonian Baptists, who 
only need waking up and leading out. 

I spent a Sunday morning in Carthage, Mo., 
with L. E. Martin, the pastor. A collection was 
taken at the morning meeting ; it was a generous 
offering. As I stepped down from the platform, 
an old man, plainly clad and quite stooped, met 
me, fifty cents in his hand. He said : "Take this 
small bit and add it to the offering/' He then 
said : "Can you call at my home, 237 McGregor 
Street, tomorrow morning ?" I told him that I 
would try to do so. That noon, dining with Broth- 
er Martin, I asked him who the old man was who 
had met me at the pulpit steps. He replied : "His 
name is Swan. He lives in a small frame house, 
and comes to church occasionally. I know very 
little about him." "He wants to see me. What 
does he want of me, stranger as I am to him?" 
Martin replied: "You probably said something 
in your sermon with which he is not in accord, 
and he wants to talk with you about it." 

The following morning, I found myself on 
McGregor Street, face set toward the Swan num- 



118 ISAAC NEWTON CLARK. 

ber. I knew not what to anticipate; it might be 
a theological trimming down, or it might be a 
scutching for too great enthusiasm about missions. 
I approached the cottage with timid step, and gave 
a modest knock on the door. An old lady, with 
sleeves well rolled up, just from the washtub, 
answered the knock. "Mrs. Swan?" I said. 
"Yes," she replied. I mentioned the request of 
Mr. Swan, and she invited me indoors. The old 
gentleman was in the yard, planting seeds. He 
came in and we talked freely about many things. 
I was anxious to postpone to the last moment the 
lecture, if that was in the air. 

Presently he said : "We have a little money 
we want to give to missions, if satisfactory ar- 
rangement can be made." He asked if the Mis- 
sionary Union could pay annuity on funds given 
in trust during the donor's life. I said : "Yes," 
and gave him the annuity rates. He remarked: 
"Then I will give you a little." Stepping into a 
small side room, he soon returned with an old- 
fashioned, much-worn wallet in his hand. He took 
out of it a beautiful, finely colored sheet. I had 
never seen anything like it, but I soon discovered 
that it was a United States Bond of One Thou- 



THE FIELDS BEYOND— THE MISSIONARY UNION. 119 

sand Dollars. Quickly he put another bond on top 
of the first, and then a third. "Three thousand 
dollars/' I said in happy surprise. "Wait a min- 
ute," he said, and put a five hundred dollar bond 
down, and then another, and lastly, one for two 
hundred and fifty dollars in all, and all of which 
they uesired to give to the Missionary Union. Go- 
ing to an attorney, we had these bonds legally 
transferred to the treasurer of the Union. I never 
carried so much money in paper at one time, and 
never had more reliable paper. I knew there was 
a premium on this class of bonds, and so took them 
to a bank in Kansas City, asking what premium 
they would allow, in cashing these bonds. They 
said twenty-two per cent. I decided to express 
them to Boston, but the Adams Express agent 
said it would cost $2.50 a thousand to do that. I 
said it was a donation to missions and asked for 
some concession from that rate. He said : "See 
the manager," so I took the bonds to him. He 
said: "All this for missions from one man?" I 
said : "Yes." Then said he : "Surely the Adams 
Express Company can get them to Boston for you, 
as its donation." They went, six days later I had 
a letter from the treasurer : "Bonds received, and 
cashed at twenty-five per cent premium. Amount 



120 ISAAC NEWTON CLARK. 

placed to the credit of E. P. Swan, five thousand, 
three hundred and twelve dollars, and fifty cents. 
Annuity six per cent." It signified much to get 
to 237 McGregor Street, Carthage, Mo., that Mon- 
day morning. 

Out a short distance from the town of Fay- 
ette, Mo., the Mount Zion Association was in ses- 
sion, Dr. Yeaman presiding. The committee on 
service arranged for me to speak, but a prominent 
pastor made objection, because, as he said, the 
missionary policies of the association were aligned 
with another Board, and the churches had no 
money for any intruding society. Dr. Yeaman 
said: "Will you speak? It is your privilege and 
you have the floor." I spoke on the general work 
of missions, sketching, in hurried fashion, the 
origin and progress of the enterprise. I then said, 
with emphasis: "The intent of the Missionary 
Union is not to interfere in any way with the flow 
of any missionary money through any established 
lines. That if there was no money in that associa- 
tion, or in Missouri, which could be given to us 
cheerfully, we did not want it." Just then, silver 
dollars began to be tossed at me, and came rolling 
down the aisle toward me. Two women, members 



THE FIELDS BEYOND— THE MISSIONARY UNION. 121 

of the objecting pastor's church, each handed me 
a dollar, and both men and women came crowd- 
ing around me, handing me money and saying: 
"We have money for you and for any good work/' 
W. J. Ray, brother to D. B. Ray, took his hat and 
passed among the people in the house and out of 
doors. He came back with about forty dollars. It 
was a sensational hour. Dr. Yeaman smiled, and 
afterwards said: "Clark, you were right, and 
you saw that the people of Missouri are not a 
narrow, selfish people/' 

A Sunday morning was spent in a church in 
Kansas, and at the close of the service, cards were 
passed for pledges for missions. When they were 
collected, one card had but one word, "Myself." 
The collector said : "I know the party who signed 
that card; would you see her?" I met her at the 
church door, a Miss Stannard, who is now the wife 
of the Rev. William Dring, and who, with her 
husband, became among the most efficient mis- 
sionaries in Assam. 

After an address in an association in South- 
west Missouri, a young man who sat before me, a 
member of the senior class of Bolivar College, 
came to me and said : "That address has decided 
me; I am going to the heathen field." Following 



122 ISAAC NEWTON CLARK. 

his graduation, his application for appointment 
was accepted by the Missionary Union, and he was 
designated to Ongole, India, where he assisted Dr. 
Clough in one of his great baptismal services. He 
was the Rev. P. M. Johnson. 

While secretary of the Missionary Union, I 
prepared a tract, "Fifty Years of Foreign Mis- 
sions/' five thousand copies of which were pub- 
lished by the society and distributed among the 
churches and people of the state. 

In 1874, I preached the annual sermon be- 
fore the State Convention in Leavenworth, Kas., 
the Rev. S. J. Kalloch, the pastor of the church, 
and Rev. J. R. Downer, the president of the con- 
vention. In 1910, thirty-six years later, I again 
preached the annual sermon before the conven- 
tion, this time meeting at Atchison, with the Rev. 
A. J. Haggett, pastor, and Mr. H. E. Silliman, 
president of the convention. 

During my years of ministerial service, I 
preached 6,840 sermons, built nine meeting houses, 
preached forty-eight dedicatory sermons, attended 
twenty-one ordaining councils, attended eighteen 
conferences for the settlement of church and pas- 
toral troubles, attended 195 state conventions, the 



THE FIELDS BEYOND— THE MISSIONARY UNION. 123 

National Anniversaries twenty-six times, the 
Southern Baptist Convention three times, the 
World's Baptist Alliance at Philadelphia, the gen- 
eral meeting of the Baptists of America in St. 
Louis. I married four hundred and eighty couples, 
conducted twelve hundred and forty funerals, bap- 
tized eighteen hundred and twenty believers, 
among them several ministers, ministers' wives, 
doctors, teachers and professors, Dr. J. W. Mon- 
crief of the Chicago University among them. 

After a happy union of nearly thirty-seven 
years, in the winter of 1912, my beloved wife 
fell ill, of a sickness believed at first to be merely 
rheumatism. A steady decline, however, which 
no medical attention seemed to remedy, finally 
resulted in a consultation of specialists, who ad- 
vised an operation as a last resort. I immediately 
removed her to a hospital, where she was operated 
upon, while her stricken family awaited a verdict. 
But no skill of doctor or care of anxious nurse 
could avail, and on the thirtieth of April, 1912, 
God took her to her heavenly home, leaving her 
husband and her two daughters to deeply mourn 
the loss of a splendid Christian, a wise and faith- 
ful wife, and an affectionate and devoted mother. 



CHAPTER XL 

AUTUMNAL DAYS — THE SEMINARY AND THE 
MEMORIAL. 

In 1914, being informed that a joint secre- 
taryship was considered desirable in the especial 
interest of economy, I proposed, in order to meet 
the demand and wish of the two societies, to repre- 
sent the joint work of the societies, at the same sal- 
ary the single society had given me. This did not 
seem best to "the powers that be/' however, and 
I was placed on the retired list. The society ex- 
pressed its unqualified approval and satisfaction 
with the work of twenty-eight years and more, and 
said: "Rev. I. N. Clark, D. D., for twenty-eight 
years the representative of the society in the 
Southwestern District, retired during the year 
at the age of eighty-one. Though preserving 
much of his old time vigor, it did not seem wise 
for him to undertake the work of the joint secre- 
taryship, which it was thought best to establish 
in this district in co-operation with the Home 
Mission Society. Too much cannot be said in 
praise of Dr. Clark's faithful ministry, and his 
untiring efforts on behalf of the work/' 
Annual Report, 1914, Page 30. 



AUTUMNAL DAYS— SEMINARY AND MEMORIAL. 125 

Southwestern District. 

Period of service, twenty-eight years and four 
months. Addresses of twenty minutes length or 
more, 8,500 ; miles traveled, in doing official serv- 
ice, 1,600,000. The annual gain in the twenty- 
eight years, was enough to send out a woman 
missionary into a new field every year. 

Thirteen Years Data. 

Increase. 

1901-02 $11,113.06 

1902-03 11,722.27 $ 589.82 

1903-04 11,870.61 167.73 

1904-05 12,921.26 1,050.66 

1905-06 14,151.51 1,280.25 

1906-07 16,465.61 2,114.10 

1907-08 18,435.98 2,470.32 

1908-09 23,112.11 4,176.10 

1909-10 25,585.94 2,478.83 

1910-11 27,785.06 1,737.49 

1911-12 25,585.59 Decrease 

1912-13 27,999.42 2,313.83 

1913-14 28,949.72 950.10 

Decrease 1911-12, New Mexico went south. 

Total gain, abating decrease one year, was 
$17,187.19, an annual average of $1,482.28, enough 



126 ISAAC NEWTON CLARK. 

to send out a new worker every year. The total 
gain in these fourteen years would support seven- 
teen missionaries, one year, or one missionary 
seventeen years. In the thirteen years of which 
I give statistics, I collected a total of $256,298.68. 

The winter of 1914-15 was passed in Colum- 
bus, 0., with my daughter, Mrs. W. L. Mattoon; 
and never did a father have a more considerate 
and devoted child. 

But to be without definite work induced rest- 
lessness and discontent. Then, too, the atmos- 
phere of Ohio is unlike that of the West, its staid 
and aged conservatism does not inspire activity 
and enthusiasm. So, toward spring, I planned 
to return to Kansas City, where my household 
goods still were. 

On my westward way, I spent a Sabbath in 
Indiana with a church of which I had been pastor 
fifty-seven years before. Great changes had been 
wrought in the sweep of these intervening years ; 
more than thirty-five fathers and mothers, who 
had greeted me as pastor, had gone to their eternal 
destination. Their children and grandchildren 
gave me cordial welcome and attentive hearing. 

The Sabbath following, I spoke to the people, 



AUTUMNAL DAYS— SEMINARY AND MEMORIAL. 127 

where, fifty-one years before, I had been the 
young pastor, and had delivered the gracious mes- 
sage and welcomed many to the church. 

The third Sabbath, I was among my relatives, 
many of whom I had not seen for twenty years 
and more, uncles, aunts, nephews, nieces, cousins 
and so forth. 

I preached in the Methodist Episcopal church 
and a great company greeted me. The warm- 
hearted pastor encored me so vigorously that, for- 
getting my limitations, I poured so much enthus- 
iasm into my utterances that when the reaction 
came I found myself limp and wilted. It was 
profoundly interesting to be once more in the 
place where my life and career had beginning, in 
the very room where my mother petted and 
spanked the turbulent boy. Gazing into the old 
fireplace, it was easy to replace many pictures 
of the life gone by. 

Into the old frame barn, many timbers 
which my axe had felled in the forest, and blocked 
and scored for the broad axe ; the blade marks of 
my axe are in the seasoned oak and poplar of that 
barn to this day. I strolled on the walks and 
through some of the paths, where as a rollicking, 



128 ISAAC NEWTON CLARK. 

barefoot boy, I had romped and played. I made 
a visit to the village, where, when eleven years 
old, I made my first and only political speech. It 
was when Polk was running for the White House, 
and the young Jeffersonians had raised a hickory 
pole, with a flag and polk stalks on it. Then a 
lot of old Jeffersonians seized me, lifted me to a 
store box and said, "speech." I spoke, but that 
speech was never reported ; it was unreportable. 

A glance at the old church building, in which 
I surrendered a prisoner to the Prince of Peace; 
a look at the winding stream through the wood- 
land, in which I was buried in baptism in obedi- 
ence to my Lord ; an hour in the community ceme- 
tery, where in restful entombment father, mother 
and brothers lie to the day of resurrection — it was 
a day of hurried but most valuable review of prec- 
ious and refreshing remembrances. 

After passing a few days in Indianapolis with 
my daughter, Mrs. E. M. Fisher, and family, I 
came to Kansas City and was immediately invited 
by the management of the Kansas City Baptist 
Theological Seminary to solicit funds for the re- 
pairing of the building. For three months I used 
voice, pen and mails in the interest of this very 



AUTUMNAL DAYS— SEMINARY AND MEMORIAL. 129 

worthy enterprise. Completing my engagement 
with the seminary, I received a letter from the 
secretary of the Judson Memorial Association, 
with its headquarters in New York City, request- 
ing me to act as its field representative in the 
states of Missouri, Kansas, Nebraska, Iowa, Min- 
nesota, Colorado and the two Dakotas. This work 
appealed to me, and on October first, 1915, I ac- 
cepted the appointment and began service. In the 
months of October and November, I visited the 
state conventions of North Dakota, at Fargo ; Min- 
nesota, at Minneapolis; Iowa, at Cedar Rapids; 
Missouri, at Trenton ; Kansas, at Clay Center, and 
Nebraska at Grand Island. 



CHAPTER XII. 

INCIDENTS AND INCIDENTALS. 

After my ordination and the acceptance of 
my first pastorate, my father gave me a splendid 
young horse, speedy in travel, graceful in car- 
riage, gentle and tractable. Horseback riding was 
then the fashionable way of going, the latter day 
luxuries of travel not being thought of. On my 
way to an appointment, which was thirty-seven 
miles from my home, I fell into the company of 
a man who was going my way. He was talkative, 
bland, smoothtongued, entertaining, the essence of 
politeness, and he appeared to be profoundly in- 
terested in preachers and religion. We journeyed 
together some miles, when he bade me a clever 
good-bye and turned on another road. I pushed 
on eight miles to my stopping place, a delightful 
Baptist country home, and my horse was stabled, 
haltered and fed, for the night was a bitter one. 
But the following morning I woke to find I had 
neither horse, saddle or bridle, for the devil had 
sent the mellow-tongued, silvery speeched horse 
thief on my trail. Thieves break in and steal, 
not even sparing God's special laborers. I was 



INCIDENTS AND INCIDENTALS. 131 

a horseless young preacher, forty miles from home, 
and my sermon the next day was concerning the 
devil and his imps. 

Incident No. Two. 

Out from Burnettsville, five miles on the bank 
of the Wabash River, is the little village of Lock- 
port. I had preached there several times in the 
afternoon, and there were three candidates await- 
ing baptism. The time came for the service ; while 
we were at the meeting house, a shower of rain, 
bringing down the water from the hills, discolored 
the water where the baptism was to occur. A 
level rock over which the water was running cov- 
ered a ledge from which a step or two brought us 
water three feet deep. Two of the candidates had 
gone into the stream and been baptized in good 
fashion. The third, a nervous lady, had gone 
through the shallow water, the pastor was down 
in the deeper, helping the candidate down, when 
suddenly she became frightened, and with a 
scream of fear pulled swiftly for the shore. I 
was left standing in the deep water, quite alone in 
bewildering surprise. Recovering from my em- 
barrassment, and getting to the bank, I said to 
the lady: "Do you want to be baptized ?" On 



132 ISAAC NEWTON CLARK. 

her assurance that she did, I said : "We will go 
in." This time, my grip was tightened by the de- 
termination to succeed, courage drove her fear 
away, and the baptism was performed in good 
order. 

Twenty-eight years later, I spoke on missions 
in Garden Plains, Kas., and at the close of the 
meeting, a man said: "Will you stop with me 
tonight?" Soon thereafter I was in his home. It 
was a bitterly cold night, and his wife had re- 
mained at home to keep the fires going. Mrs. 
Smith, when I was introduced to her, gave me 
cordial welcome, and in the conversation that fol- 
lowed, said that a young preacher by the name of 
Clark had baptized her. I asked her where, and 
how long since, and she replied at Lockport, Ind., 
nearly thirty years before. She mentioned how 
cowardly and silly she had been; how she ran 
and left the preacher standing in the water, and 
how bewildered he looked, and how he led her into 
the water the second time. "Why," she said, "I 
could not have escaped his strong grip if I had 
wanted to." "I remember," I said, "I was there." 
"Are you the minister?" she asked, in great sur- 
prise. We had a great visit. Lockport and its 



INCIDENTS AND INCIDENTALS. 133 

history was in review, until the wall time piece 
struck twelve, before our heads were pillowed. 

Incident No. Three. 

There were three Baptist preachers who lived 
in Indianapolis in 1861-62. They carried the same 
name, Edward Clark, Minor G. Clark, Isaac N. 
Clark. They lived on the same street, Pennsyl- 
vania Avenue, on the same side of the street, and 
within two blocks distance. They were not re- 
lated. Edward went as a missionary to Assam, 
Minor edited the Baptist Witness, I. N. was pas- 
tor, superintendent of state missions, and district 
secretary for foreign missions. 

Incident No. Four. 

In Indianapolis, while witnessing a great mil- 
itary parade, on Decoration Day, standing on a 
crowded street corner, with my Prince Albert but- 
toned tightly around me, and my baby girl on my 
arm, somehow, in some inexplicable fashion, some 
long-fingered devil got his hand under my coat, 
took my fine, full jewelled gold watch from its 
pocket, detached it from the chain, and escaped. 
A present from my beloved wife; I was both hot 
and sick, but never saw the watch again. 



134 ISAAC NEWTON CLARK. 

Incident No. Five. 
Rev. A. J. Essex was a practical, tactful, 
energetic, and heroic minister and church build- 
er. He invited me to preach the dedicatory ser- 
mon at the opening of several new meeting houses. 
Once at Muskogee, Ok., the ministers of the sev- 
eral churches were on the platform, just over the 
baptistry. I was in the furor of my sermon, when 
stepping back from the lecturn, the floor trem- 
bled somewhat, and the preachers seemed uneasy. 
"Do not fear, brethren/' said Essex, "there is no 
danger, the baptistry is dry. When we take you 
into it we will see that it contains much water." 

Other Incidents. 
In Indiana, I had the pleasure of being a mem- 
ber of the board of managers of Franklin College, 
and for several years served as its chairman. I 
was presiding when Dr. H. L. Wayland was elect- 
ed to the presidency of the college, also when he 
offered his resignation. 

A man of splendid culture, but too eccentric 
and self -centered to find easy going among the 
people of the West, at the time, especially the 
Hoosiers. 

The Indiana Pastors' Conference once asked 



INCIDENTS AND INCIDENTALS. 135 

me to preach a sermon on the theological differ- 
ences between the Baptists and Campbellites. I 
gave much time and patient research to this sub- 
ject, having access to many of the Disciples' au- 
thorized and standard publications. I found the 
differences many, some of them very marked. 
The sermon secured the unanimous approval of the 
conference, but it stirred mightily the spirit of 
controversy among the preachers of the other de- 
nomination. It brought me many challenges to 
discussion, but the sermon was not prepared in 
the atmosphere of controversy, but simply to de- 
fine in fair and candid fashion, the things for 
which the two denominations stood. 

I preached a sermon to my people while pas- 
tor at Greenwood, Ind., on the qualified subjects 
and the correct and scriptural action in Christian 
baptism, which was published by the congrega- 
tion and distributed in large numbers. A Presby- 
terian elder, after reading the sermon, said to me : 
"You Baptist people have the argument, but bap- 
tism is so non-essential, that it does not matter 
how it is done." 



136 ISAAC NEWTON CLARK. 

A Sample Address. 

(The following outline of one of I. N. Clark's later 

addresses, of course, fails utterly to give his splendid 

"filling" of vivid illustration, stately rhetoric, and sonorous 

phrase; but it reveals the richness of his heart and mind.) 

The Ministry of Passing Years. 

Changed me in many respects. 
Revealed to me, myself. 

1. It has given to me a more accurate and 
discriminating conception of humanity. 

2. It has lessened my estimate of the value 
and significance of things material to the larger 
and more complete welfare of men. 

3. It has weakened my affection for and at- 
tachment to earthly things, since they are so 
fluctuating and unsatisfying. 

4. It has given me a keener and livelier 
appreciation of God's great message to man, its 
verity, vitality, fertility. 

5. It has intensified my conception of the 
solemnity of preaching, and the almost imper- 
ative need of the largest equipment that can be 
secured. 

6. It has convinced me of the futility of 



Ik MMfiy offiassm. 
years. 

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IJffaaQ girentnea neve qccia^I 

BUM has CesseriedTnyesFwA 

mfngi TvaTeriol fofht mvvtr^ 
invfe Comjiftle VfeJpy& offnen, 

USB tffias weakened my 
fettice They ave QajfyciualfriQ 

" and unfaTj'sjhhiq . 



138 ISAAC NEWTON CLARK. 

JDfJthas Given meotfeenep 

and liYliev Afi/ireaal/bnsf Qod% 
Q real Tmssaoe 7b tiian - 
m verily -YitatiTy-ferW^ 

VJl/ictQ hiTdvsifi&i tnu 
Ceme/Ulon of Ike Qokmnty 

irnjienTm ofTfieJmaaher haying 
The tayyezTancL tezTequiftmnir 

ffiaTccm he Secured, 

VB JfflQG CdmnwdtdL rat of 
mefum of pmeAhic) mlhoiA 

Im ejficalicitQ tndjummrej 
%ci hh tentdlcTion ufon The 



INCIDENTS AND INCIDENTALS. 139 

preaching without the efficacious enduement of 
the Holy Spirit upon the preacher and his bene- 
diction upon the people. 

Creeds. 

Just now, we hear much of creeds, creedless 
men and creedless churches, as if this was the 
time when churches should stand for nothing def- 
inite, and advocate nothing special or emphatic, 
popularize religion by much speaking of ear pleas- 
ing type, but empty of solids on which thought 
and soul may rest and hold in time of battle and 
temptation. There has scarcely been a time when 
pulpits and churches needed safe anchorage more 
than now. Foam and float, however taking, are 
not more nutritious to hungry souls than former- 
ly. If strong, heroic Christians are made, they 
will be the product of strong, substantial, doc- 
trinal, biblical teachings. The tree grows fastest 
and stands longest and surest, that is well rooted 
in good soil. The tent, without a center pole, will 
swing and collapse at any wind : the preacher who 
has no doctrinal cables, will drift with every 
change of ecclesiastical atmosphere. The creed- 
less church will have less solidity than the social 
club. Think of an elephant without bones, a lion 



140 ISAAC NEWTON CLARK. 

without a well built frame, even a humming bird, 
apart from rib and joint and fiber. Even so, 
great pulpits and strong churches are built around 
great fundamental truths, the creedal principles 
for which they stand. 

Colorado. 
It has been a refreshing experience to travel 
the roadways, rocky ways, by ways, mountain 
ways, missionary ways of Colorado. I have bat- 
tled with the coaldust of Trinidad, met the sand- 
filled breezes and salubrity of Pueblo, bathed me 
in the noonday sunshine of Colorado Springs, 
strolled the thoroughfares of incomparable Den- 
ver, breathed the fruit flavored atmosphere of 
Canon City, dispatched a spud or two at Greeley, 
sniffed the cultured breezes of Boulder, touched 
the towns of San Luis Valley, plunged into the 
Royal Gorge, gazed on the eyeless, threadless 
needle of the Black Canyon, scented the orchards 
and vineyards of Delta, the Junction and Pali- 
sades, struggled with the highness of Tennessee 
Pass, taxed severely my lively imagination in the 
Garden of the Gods, preached in the most elevated 
pulpit in America, and best of all, I have shared 
in the confidence and fellowship of the aggressive 



INCIDENTS AND INCIDENTALS. 141 

and wide-awake Baptists of the Centennial State 
for many years. 

His Rules of Ministerial Life. 
Sixty-four years ago, when I began to preach, 
I decided to adhere faithfully to some definite 
rules. The following are some of them : 

1. That in all my pastoral visitation and so- 
cial intercourse with the people, I would be cour- 
teous and kind, not allowing myself to say any- 
thing that might offend or disturb the fellowship 
and unity of the community. 

2. That I would show proper respect to 
pastors and churches differing from me and my 
own church, that I would freely co-operate with 
them in establishing social reforms, and in all 
movements that looked toward the betterment of 
community and city conditions. 

3. That, while holding firmly my views of 
Bible doctrine and church order, I would cheer- 
fully unite with Christian people in concerted ef- 
fort to bring sinners to Christ, when I would do 
so without making apology, or compromising my 
relation to Bible teaching. 

4. That, in the preparation for the pulpit, 



142 ISAAC NEWTON CLARK. 

I would always endeavor to recall the significance 
of preaching, come to the Book in the spirit of 
prayerful inquiry, ask God to give me the text 
best suited to the need of the people at that time, 
then proceed to the study of its meaning and the 
wisest method of its application. 

5. That, if it were possible, I would always 
respond to the appeal of sickness or distress, or 
the melancholy note from the casket or death 
chamber, that as much as in me it were possible, 
I would carry into these places, the blessed and 
helpful consolation of our holy religion. 

6. That I would studiously refrain from 
bringing into the pulpit, sectional matters, and 
all subjects that have no relation to the establish- 
ment of righteousness, the salvation of sinners, 
and the extension of the Kingdom of God. 

7. That I would promptly and courteously 
answer every personal letter that came to me, 
and to this day, at the end of sixty-four years 
in the ministry, thirty-three years of that time in 
general work, I do not recall an instance in which 
a personal communication remains unanswered. 

8. That I would not use tobacco or intox- 
icating liquor in any form, at any time. 



INCIDENTS AND INCIDENTALS. 143 

From a Letter to Dr. W. A. Elliott, dated October 
21,1914: 

"Since the moment of my enlistment under 
the banner of Prince Immanuel, I have coveted, 
never more than now, to be absolutely right in doc- 
trinal and practical religion — as also in political, 
governmental and social relations. I never could 
afford to be in the wrong or to be wrong, cer- 
tainly not in this moment in my career. A little 
review discovers that I have been wrong and in 
error, Oh, so many times. From the date of my 
initial sermon, sixty-one years ago, I have been 
dominated and animated by two masterful aims : 
First, to be a faithful minister of Jesus Christ, 
rightly rooted and established in him; knowing 
something of the meaning and mission of his re- 
demptive message; able to put right emphasis 
upon its various parts in all public ministries and 
private counsels. 

"Second, to form and maintain the most cor- 
dial and courteous Christian fellowship with my 
brethren in the ministry and with the churches. 
Having been piloted thus I have pursued my pil- 
grim way to this good day. Now the shadows of 
evening time are thickening about me. For the 



144 



ISAAC NEWTON CLARK. 



days that linger with me and for me, what should 
I covet more than to be firmly and ever loyal to 
him, whose I am and whom I serve? Having ac- 
cepted the doctrine of the supreme Lordship of 
Christ, I find myself in frequent inquiry as to 
what genuine loyalty to him is? What it in- 
cludes? And how it is to be shown? And since 
I read the comprehensive message from his lips — 
'Teaching them to observe all thing whatsoever 
I command you' — I am wondering if among the 
things he commanded, there is one thing of such 
little moment, or so trifling in significance in re- 
lation to his Lordship and Authority, that it may 
be omitted, disregarded or changed ? 

"I want in this poor way to thank you for your 
uniform kindness and confidence, and especially 
for the good words which fell from your lips on 
the night of my anniversary. I must ever be on 
time. Never miss a train. Never be late at din- 
ner plate. Make shorter addresses. Put more 
into them. Never invade the other fellow's hour. 
Come and see me soon. I want to talk with you 
about men, measures and Kingdom matters. God 
bless you and Ottawa. 

"I. N. Clark." 



CHAPTER XIII. 

THE CLOSING SCENES. 

Dr. Clark continued his work for Judson 
Memorial with all his wonted enthusiasm and 
zeal, his regal imagination aflame with the 
thought of a worthy commenoration of the great 
Baptist apostle in terms of human helpfulness 
here in our own land, in the world's greatest cen- 
ter of thronging humanity, New York City. But 
he was warned by his physicians that his hold 
on the earthly life was growing slighter, that 
any unusual, or even any usual, exertion might 
instantly snap the thread. This could not keep 
him from the strenuous endeavor which was his 
very life-breath, but with the growing weakness 
which his friends could note from time to time, 
it necessarily checked somewhat the vigorous ex- 
ertion which had always characterized him. The 
old warhorse with difficulty was kept away from 
the great national meetings at Minneapolis, May, 
1916, and was constrained not to be present in 
the body at the Kansas Convention at Newton, 
in October, although in the spirit he was there, 



146 ISAAC NEWTON CLARK. 

sending a loving greeting which was received with 
profound emotion. 

It has, as Secretary Crawford has said, 
"Some of that stately touch which characterized 
all of his correspondence and his public utter- 
ance, and a pathos, now deepened by the fact that 
he has gone from us." 

Kansas City, Mo., October 3. 
Dear Brother Crawford: 

I think I will not be at the meeting of your State Con- 
vention at Newton next week. This I deeply regret. It 
was at Newton that good Brother J. P. Ash introduced me 
to the Baptists of Kansas. It was there that Dr. Haigh, 
representing the Home Mission Society, extended me most 
cordial welcome in the name of that great Society. It was 
there that I made my introductory deliverance on World- 
Wide Missions to Kansas Baptists. 

What a delightful time I have had with them in the 
thirty years since! I wish I could be with them in this 
great meeting. But it seems hardly possible. God bless 
the Convention. 

Brotherly, 

I. N. Clark. 

As the year wore on Dr. Clark surprised and 
blessed the Seminary body by several of his al- 
ways welcome visits. Weary with the journey 
up the steep hill, he was yet always able to give 
spicy and vivid reminiscences of old days, the 



THE CLOSING SCENES. 147 

earnest exhortations of one who was almost at 
the summit, words of faith and hope built on the 
unfailing Word, as his rich contribution to the 
Seminary life. On one of his last visits he showed 
his interest in both great causes by presenting 
to the seminary two paid-up "bonds" of the Jud- 
son Memorial, one of which now hangs in the Li- 
brary of the Seminary and one in the classrom 
of the Training School. 

Still busy about the Master's work, it was at 
the railway station at Hutchinson that he had a 
long and intimate talk with State Secretary Craw- 
ford about the denominational problems, especial- 
ly on the smaller fields. A little later, December 
29, 1916, not ten days before his translation, he 
wrote to the secretary a letter which with various 
mentions "too personal for general publication," 
contained the following characteristic sentences, 
showing the wide sympathies, sturdy faith, and 
ever optimistic outlook of this great-hearted, far- 
visioned man of God. 

I am prompted to write this word of encouragement. 
I have known something of State Missions in Kansas during 
the thirty years last past, having had a lively and growing 
interest in this fundamental work. I have sincere pleasure 
in saying that never in the thirty years of personal obser- 



148 



ISAAC NEWTON CLARK. 



vation has the success been greater than in the past few 
years. And never was the outlook more stimulating than 
at this present moment. I am quite sure that the more you 
become acquainted with the indescribable needs of the state 
— the magnitude of the present opportunity and the call 
for increased missionary activity — the livelier will be your 
concern of soul for the increase of missionary activities 
and the enlargement of missionary resources and appli- 
ances. While you may not see all you wish to see accom- 
plished, you do see the constantly increasing evidences of 
growth and permanent advancement. 
God bless you more and more. 
Brotherly, 

I. N. Clark. 

As the service for the Judson Memorial Fund 
drew near its close, his ardent desire for active 
usefulness, and the ingrained habit of all the 
strenuous years, made him anxious as to what 
his further form of labor was to be, for idleness, 
even in the midst of the tenderest care of his 
loved ones, was to him unthinkable. The ques- 
tion was answered for him. 



Saturday evening, January 6, 1917, he came 
to Wellsville, Kas., to represent the Judson work, 
walking with the pastor, Rev. Frank Ward, from 
the station up to the parsonage. An evening of 
his inimitable talk, prolonged into the night, a 
good night's rest, an awakening to his usual vigor 



THE CLOSING SCENES. 149 

and cheer, an interested hour in the Sunday 
School, and then he arose to address the school. 
He said that he had been a Sunday School boy for 
seventy-five years, and hoped to live to be a hun- 
dred, and be a Sunday School boy during all that 
time. Then he launched out on the splendid mis- 
sionary opportunity presented by the great Jud- 
son Memorial Church in thronged New York City. 
He had spoken but a few minutes when he was 
observed to falter. Before he could fall, loving 
hands had caught him and gently eased him to a 
reclining position. Medical help was summoned, 
but the spirit had fled. At last he had "soared 
and forgot to come back." He had intended to 
preach that morning, and Pastor Ward had asked 
him what text he purposed to speak upon. "And 
as Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness, 
even so must the Son of man be lifted up," was 
the answer. But instead, that day, of bidding 
others look in trusting faith to the crucified Re- 
deemer, as he had so delighted all his life to do, 
he himself was to see Him face to face, no veil 
between. 

The Central Baptist Church, Kansas City, 
Mo., of which he had been so long a member, was 



150 



ISAAC NEWTON CLARK. 



the scene of the funeral services, January 11, 
1917. Rev. G. W. Cassidy, D. D., Joint Secretary 
of the Home and Foreign Missionary Societies 
for the Southwest District, read the Scriptures 
and led in prayer. Rev. W. A. Elliott, D. D., of 
the Ottawa First Church, who conducted Mrs. 
Clark's funeral services nearly five years before, 
was the principal speaker, as perhaps closest in 
personal intimacy among Dr. Clark's countless 
friends, and one who had felt his wise and loving 
touch upon his life at many of its most decisive 
hours. He spoke of his immense labors, his pro- 
digous and unremitting toil as he cultivated so 
successfully his vast district; of his flaming mis- 
sionary passion, a passion that never paled or 
waned; of his fervid eloquence, lofty in bearing, 
magnificent in diction, fresh, and intensely vig- 
orous in delivery, as full of enthusiasm in the 
little gathering, as in the vast congregation; of 
his genial affability and kindly humor, which 
made him the friend of all ; of his profoundly re- 
ligious nature, and, combined with large brother- 
liness for those who differed, his own definite, 
firmly anchored faith. 

President Crannell, of the Kansas City Sem- 



THE CLOSING SCENES. 151 

inary, who also had been one of the speakers at 
the funeral of Mrs. Clark, spoke of his own and 
the seminary's great indebtedness to the princely 
man of God who had been so wise a counselor, so 
steadfast and sturdy a friend, so inspiring a col- 
league, so stimulating an example of breadth of 
view and of passion, for the Book, the Kingdom 
and the King. Pastor A. LeGrand, D. D., of the 
Central Church, gave a tender message of the 
home rest that comes after the day's toil. Mrs. 
St. Elmo Sanders, an old-time friend of the fam- 
ily, sang two beautiful songs. Dr. S. A. North- 
rup, associated so long with Dr. Clark in so many 
ways, spoke a few impromptu words of deep af- 
fection. Six of the deacons of the Central Church, 
Geo. Campbell, Henry Coon, B. H. Brooks, A. L. 
Houghton, E. O. Longfellow, A. L. Howard, 
were honorary pallbearers, while as with Mrs. 
Clark before, six seminary students, in this in- 
stance Revs. W. F. Ripley of Colorado, H. E. 
Pettus of Illinois, A. Clifton of Texas, C. A. Hey- 
don and G. W. Wise of Missouri, and M. 0. Clem- 
mons of Kansas, bore the body from the church 
and to its last resting place on the sunny hillside 
of Mount Washington. 



152 



ISAAC NEWTON CLARK. 



A LETTER. 



Cordial Greeting to the Oklahoma Indians. 

Beloved Brethren : I wish I could give you in 
warmer fashion the salutation of my old hand, old 
and slightly wrinkled, but not palsied nor trem- 
bling. God, who gave me being, has looked into 
me and after me. How manifold are His mercies, 
how rich and plenteous His grace! I get weary, 
but I am not worn out, and I dare not become 
frazzled and rusty, for my heart is in Kingdom 
love and work. The name of the Chief among 
ten thousand and Him who only is altogether love- 
ly, is on my lips, the sweetness and rest of His sal- 
vation is in my heart. 

My spirit is in fellowship with you, and I wish 
I could be with you. I am speaking in memory of 
the greatest missionary America ever had, he who 
first told the people of India, who worship many 
things, but not God, of His love and the coming 
of His Son, to save out of every nation and tribe, 
all come to Him. Two Sundays ago, I made four 
little addresses, average length, twenty minutes; 
the people heard me gladly and my heart was 
happy. I often think of you ; of the faithful men 



A LETTER. 153 

and women who are doing so much for you to lead 
you into the Jesus road ; of the good times I have 
had in speaking to you, and worshipping with you. 
And now I am thinking about another and a bet- 
ter land — it is just across the river. None will 
see that country except those who cross the river, 
and many who cross will never see it. It is the 
Home Land of all God's people — a prepared resi- 
dence for a prepared people. Great numbers are 
going out of every kindred and tongue; Britons, 
Germans, French, Chinese, Japanese, Americans, 
Africans, are there and going. Jews and Gentiles 
have crossed the line. Indians are in that happy 
land — Kiowas, Comanches, Arapahos, Cheyennes 
— out of all tribes they gather ; a place, never too 
warm, never too cold, perpetual light, unimpaired 
health, no sickness, no strife or battle, undisturbed 
fellowship and happiness. We shall meet beyond 
the River. 

God be with you. 



CHAPTER XIV. 

TRIBUTES. 

Just a few of those who knew Dr. Clark best, 
especially in Kansas, were asked to say, in from 
fifteen to twenty-five words (space limitations 
forbidding more), something of their feeling re- 
garding Dr. Clark. Many hundred similar ones 
could be obtained. 

President S. E. Price, D. D., Ottawa University : 

A man of profound confidence in the living 
God ; he had a great vision of the Kingdom and its 
extent ; he believed in a realization of that vision, 
and gave his life to its widest extension. 



State Secretary J. T. Crawford, in Kansas Baptist : 

Every denominational interest felt the throb 
of his great heart. Foreign missions has had an 
advocate of wonderful force and acceptance. No 
man has been so widely and permanently in- 
trenched in the affections of our Kansas Baptist 
people. How we shall miss his genial, courteous, 
dignified, forceful, machless presence in our de- 
liberations and our fellowship. 



TRIBUTES. 155 

W. A. Elliott, D. D., Ottawa, Kas., (Memorial Ser- 
mon) : 
I rejoice that ever I knew this man of God, 
this hero of the Cross; rejoice that ever he was 
given to this state that he might build his life 
into our denominational structure. His life was 
a benediction and a blessing for a generation. May 
his mantle fall on not one or a few, but upon a 
multitude who knew and loved him as a friend and 
a brother. 

W. Edward Raffety, Ph. D., Editor-in-Chief 
Sunday School Periodicals, Publication 
Society : 
One of God's noblemen, keen intellect and 
kindly heart. He was an indefatigable worker, 
with wonderful vitality, always young — a con- 
stant challenge to us all to be and to do our best. 
He was loyal to the Word of God and to the Son 
of God, to the church, the denomination, and to 
the Kingdom. 

Bruce Kinney, D. D., Home Mission Secretary : 

A great, large-hearted, brainy master in 
Israel; eloquent, tender, impassioned, and lived 
a vicarious life. 



156 ISAAC NEWTON CLARK. 

D. D. Proper, D. D., District Secretary Home Mis- 
sions : 

A man of transparent Christian integrity, an 
indefatigable worker, and a true yoke-fellow 
among his brethren. Truly, like his Master, "He 
spared not himself." 

T. S. Young, D. D., Sunday School and Young 
People's Secretary for Colorado : 

An inspiration and a blessing to his minis- 
terial brethren. His appearance in an assembly 
was as the coming of an invigorating breeze. 

Don Kinney, Kansas City, Mo., formerly Newton, 
Kas.: 

My feelings for the late great and good Dr. 
Clark are well expressed in Neh. 7:2: "I gave 
Hananiah charge over Jerusalem for he was a 
faithful man and feared God above many." 

And this is a rare quality, as the Wise Man 
tells us in Prov. 20:6: "Most men will proclaim 
everyone his own goodness: but a faithful man 
who can find." 



TRIBUTES. 157 

Rev. Joe P. Jacobs, long District Secretary of the 
Publication Society, now Superintendent 
Missouri General Association : 

A friend that had my unboundeed confidence 
for fifteen years. We traveled many thousands of 
miles together. I never heard him speak evil or 
unkind of any brother. 



Dr. R. K. Maiden, Editor "Word and Way" : 

A man of heroic stature, thoroughly grounded 
in the faith ; of deep convictions, always conscien- 
tious and unwavering in his loyalty to truth and 
right; honest, earnest, energetic, eloquent, ef- 
fective; firm, faithful, fraternal; companionable, 
careful, courteous, kind, clean ; gentle, gentleman- 
ly, generous, genuine. 



Rev. W. W. Searcy, Chanute, Kas. : 

No one was more loved by the Baptists of 
the great Central West. We shall miss him sore- 
ly! Not until the books are opened shall we know 
the full fruitage of his great missionary life. 



158 ISAAC NEWTON CLARK 

Rev. A. J. Raggett, Atchison, Kas. : 

To know Dr. I. N. Clark was to love him, to 

hear him was to be inspired, to talk with him was 
an uplift from his powerful personality. He was 
a genuine Christian, an eloquent preacher, a great 
soul on fire with missionary zeal. 



Rev. J. M. Gurley, Sunday School and Young Peo- 
ple's Secretary for Kansas : 

Had unusual physical strength and endur- 
ance. In character and as a Christian he was of 
the heroic mold. In personality he was simple 
and companionable, yet purposeful and dominant. 
His ministry was long and eminently useful. 



Rev. T. J. Hopkins, Coffeyville, Kas. : 

A modern patriarch in bearing, character and 

achievement. He will be long remembered as a 
man and as a rare champion of missions. Some 
of my deepest impressions regarding the needs of 
a lost world are traceable to his great utterances 
in my old home church, when convictions were 
forming in boyhood. 



TRIBUTES. 159 

G. W. Cassidy, D. D., Joint Secretary Foreign and 
Home Mission Societies for Southwest 
District : 

Vigorous, genuine, sympathetic, intensely 
loyal to the Master and His Word ; his vision be- 
held a world need and his heart longed for a King- 
dom conquest. 

Rev. C. D. Eldridge, Ph. D., Edgerton Place, Kan- 
sas City, Kas. : 

Dr. Clark's stalwart physique, vigorous mind 
and ready eloquence inspired one to be like him — 
"sun-crowned" — and his sterling sincerity, sim- 
plicity and sympathy were spiritual tonic and 
benediction. 



Rev. A. W. Atkinson, Leavenworth, Kas. : 

Dr. I. N. Clark was the most beloved Baptist 
in the Middle- West. All who knew him, knew him 
intimately. He breathed sincerity. He loved 
folks. In the pulpit he was massive, dignified, im- 
pressive, eloquent. In prayer he reached his zen- 
ith. Everyone loved to hear him pray: "0 thou 
God of the Sanctuary" raise up more men like him. 



160 ISAAC NEWTON CLARK. 

Rev. W. H. Tolliver, Ph. D., Fort Scott, Kas. : 

No man has ever come in touch with my life 
who was of greater inspiration to me than was 
Dr. I. N. Clark. 

Rev. 0. C. Brown, Lawrence, Kas. : 

Dr. Clark was a counselor and inspiration to 
us all, young and old alike. He was the embodi- 
ment of faith, energy and thoughtful kindness. 



Rev W. A. Seward Sharp, Eldorado, Kas., former- 
ly Missionary in Burma and one of the 
Faculty of Indian University, Bacone, 
Okla. : 

The best informed general worker it has been 
my pleasure to know. Knew the names of all the 
appointees of the society and could locate them. 
Prayed for them regularly by name, and associat- 
ed them with their fields of labor. Rode no hob- 
by, but was willing to ride anything, or even walk 
in order to get into a meeting on time to speak 
on missions, which to him meant "World-Wide 
Missions/' "Home and Foreign." A great and 



TRIBUTES. 161 

good man has fallen, the greatest district secre- 
tary ever employed by our Foreign Missionary 
Society. The great American Apostle of Mis- 
sions. 



/. Y. Atchison, D. D., Home Secretary, American 
Baptist Foreign Missionary Society : 

Dr. I. N. Clark's rare spiritual character and 
his devoted service were always a source of in- 
spiration and encouragement to me. He was a 
great object lesson of unreserved consecration to 
a great task. 



Rev. W. S. Wiley, Muskogee, Okla., Sunday School 
Secretary : 

Dr. Clark was one of the greatest men it has 
ever been my pleasure to know. He was my 
friend ; we loved each other. He has done more in 
educating the Baptists of Oklahoma on the mean- 
ing of the Great Commission than all other de- 
nominational representatives. To be in his pres- 
ence meant to be a better servant of the Master. 
I miss him. 



162 ISAAC NEWTON CLARK. 

Rev. Horace W. Cole, Hutchison, Kas. : 

There was an inspiring spirit of conquest 
that pervaded the atmosphere in which Doctor 
Clark moved, which gave others courage to at- 
tempt and do larger things for the Kingdom. 



F. D. Stackkouse, President City Missions Society, 
Denver, Colo. : 

For encouragement of those who are timid in 
testifying for Christ, Dr. I. N. Clark said, at one 
time, to me : "I never go into the pulpit without 
quaking knees." Great, strong war horse that he 
was, yet with the great responsibility on him he 
became as a little child. 



Stephen Abbott Northrop, Pastor First Baptist 
Church, Kansas City, Kas. : 

Doubtless I have had the honor of a more 
intimate and longer association with this manly, 
genial and lion-hearted man of God than any 
other pastor in the West. We were associated to- 
gether when I was pastor at Fort Wayne, Ind., 



TRIBUTES. 163 

and also president of the Baptist State Conven- 
tion. He represented that body as secretary and 
therefore came in closest touch with the pastors 
and laymen of the state. Prudent, optimistic, 
fraternal, clear-headed, whole-souled, he was a 
veritible Boanerges. He "believed and therefore 
spoke." He aimed at the mark and hit it. He 
loved his work, and, like his Master, never lost 
a battle in a hand to hand conflict for truth. The 
church militant has lost a hero of the faith, but 
the church triumphant has gained a star-crowned 
saint. 



164 ISAAC NEWTON CLARK. 

Chronology. 

Born, near Rossville, Clinton County, Ind., 
October 13, 1833. 

Parents, David Condit Clark of New Jersey 
family, English ancestry. Mary M. Slipher, of 
Maryland family. German Lutheran people. 

Baptized into fellowship of Baptist Church, 
Rossville, Ind., first Sunday in September, 1852. 
J. M. Smith, pastor. 

Spent following winter teaching school and 
in theological study under the direction of Prof. 
Emanuel Sharf of Delphi, Ind. 

Preached first sermon March, 1853. 

Called to pastorate of Baptist churches at 
Monticello and Burnettsville, White County, Ind., 
in fall of 1853. 

Ordained to preach, first Sunday in Decem- 
ber, 1853, at Rossville Church, by council under 
auspices of Judson Association. 

Pastor, Burnettsville, Monticello and Pitts- 
burgh churches, Indiana, December 1853-spring 
of 1855, traveling 115 miles per month on horse- 
back to preach. 



CHRONOLOGY. 165 

Pastor, Pittsburgh, Jordan, Sugar Creek, and 
Laramie churches, Indiana, spring 1855-spring 
1856. 

1856-1857 spent in traveling in Missouri, 
Kansas, Nebraska, Iowa, and preaching at vari- 
ous places in Indiana. 

Pastor, Southport and Greenwood churches, 
Indiana, 1857-1859. 

Traveling for Indiana Baptist State Conven- 
tion, soliciting funds and establishing mission 
churches, 1859-1861. 

Pastor, Hurricane and Second Mt. Pleasant 
churches, Indiana, 1861. 

Pastor, First Baptist Church, Franklin, In- 
diana, 1868-1871. 

Pastor, First Baptist Church, Urbana, Ohio, 
1871-1873. 

Pastor, Iola and Humboldt, Kas., 1873-1874. 

Pastor, First Baptist Church, Ottawa, Kas., 
1874-spring of 1875. 

Pastor, First Baptist Church, Portsmouth, 
Ohio, October, 1875-October, 1878. 



166 ISAAC NEWTON CLARK. 

Pastor, South Street Church, Indianapolis, 
Ind., October, 1878-1882. 

Secretary, Indiana Baptist State Convention, 
1882-August, 1885. 

Secretary, Southwest District, American 
Baptist Missionary Union, Kansas City, Mo., Aug- 
ust, 1885-Noyember, 1914. 

Special Field Secretary, Kansas City Bap- 
tist Theological Seminary, soliciting funds for re- 
pairing buildings, etc., Spring, 1915, to October, 
1915. 

Field Secretary, Judson Memorial Fund, for 
Missouri, Kansas Iowa, Nebraska, Minnesota, 
Dakotas and Colorado; Kansas City, Mo., fall 
1915 to death January 7, 1917, in Baptist Church 
of Wellsville, Kas., at 11:00 a. m. while address- 
ing Sunday school on subject of Judson Memorial 
Church. 

During the years of ministerial service Dr. 
Clark did the following : 
6840 Sermons preached. 

9 Meeting houses built. 

48 Dedicatory sermons preached. 



CHRONOLOGY. 167 

21 Ordaining councils attended. 

18 Councils to settle church and pastoral trou- 
bles attended. 

125 State conventions attended. 

26 National anniversaries. 

3 Southern Baptist Conventions attended. 

1 World's Baptist Alliance, attended at Phila- 
delphia, Pa. 

1 General meeting, Baptists of America, St. 
Louis, Mo., attended. 

480 Marriages performed. 

1240 Funerals conducted. 

1820 Believers baptized. 

1,600,000 miles traveled in official service. 

$256,298.68 collected for missions, 1900-1914. 



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